Grand Canyon
by LolaAnn
Summary: The Winchesters meet the Summers girls when they're on 'vacation'. Of course something nasty is bound to pop-up. Working toward some Buffy/Dean. *Now Complete*
1. Chapter 1

*****Revised March 2013 – I've been sick lately and I suppose my muse has caught it too. I have really missed writing, however, so thought I'd revisit this first story and clean it up a bit. I've learned that I still have A LOT to learn as a writer, but feel I've improved since originally writing this and wanted to at least give it one more pass. I don't plan to change any of the storyline/plot - just minimal spelling, grammar, punctuation type 'o stuff. Since I have so many new things I hope to write, I am only making one pass at this. In other words, I very well may have missed something OR added a brand new error. **

Timeline Info: Story takes place shortly after the SPN s6 episode "Mannequin 3: The Reckoning". Sam has his soul back and Dean is still grumpy about his encounter with Lisa and Ben… and life in general. They still don't know anything much about the 'Mother of All'.

In the Buffyverse, we are post-series. I know Buffy went off the air in 2003, but try to forgive me, because I'm gonna play with the timeline a little, mainly because I wouldn't know how to imagine a grown up Dawn. In this story, the events of BtVS s7 are only 2 years in the past. So, I'm putting Buffy at about 24 and Dawn at 18.

Basic Plot: I want to have the Winchesters meet the Summers girls when they're on 'vacation'. Of course, we all know that it wouldn't be a vacation for this group if something nasty didn't pop up. Hopefully some fun, a little angst, and at the _very_ least some serious Buffy/Dean sexual tension.

Disclaimer: Own nothing. Don't expect to make anything. I'm just trying to entertain myself, and hopefully a few others.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx x

"This is just dumb, Sam."

Sam took his eyes off the road long enough to smirk at Dean, who was sitting in the passenger seat scowling at him, his casted right arm cradled carefully against his chest.

"Dean, _you're_ the one who always talked about wanting to see the Grand Canyon. Besides, who knows when we'll be in Arizona again?"

"We don't exactly have time to be planning a Griswold family vacation here," Dean groused. "You do remember Big Mama, right? Queen bitch of all the bitches? I'm sure she wants to …"

Dean stopped when he noticed Sam sporting an idiotic smile, dimples on full display. It took years off his face, almost made him look like a teenager again. At any other time Dean supposed he'd have been happy to see it, but _Jesus_ he felt like warmed-over shit right now.

"Dammit, Sam. What is up with you?" he snapped.

To Dean's disappointment, Sam's grin didn't falter. He just shook his head fondly and addressed his brother in his most patient voice. Apparently, hereally did want Dean to shoot him.

"Don't you think we need a little R&R? Plus, it's not like we can actually do anything right now. Bobby can't find any info on her and you're not exactly in hunting condition. Just relax, Dean, try to enjoy yourself. "

"Just relax Dean, and try to enjoy yourself," Dean mimed in a nasally falsetto. Geez, Sammy, you think maybe we can go to a spa later? Get a facial?"

Sam refused to take the bait. Instead he gave a nod toward the arm Dean was holding protectively against himself, noting his older brother's pained features and pale complexion.

"Have you taken your pain medicine today man?"

"No, Nurse Betty." The older Winchester groused, then averted his gaze to the floorboard before adding almost petulantly, "My stomach hurts."

"Of course your stomach hurts, Dean," Sam stated, a bit of exasperation seeping into his voice. "You're not supposed to chase Vicodin with cheap whiskey. You're gonna get an ulcer."

Sam knitted his brows and attempted to tamp down his irritation at his sibling's apparent utter lack of concern for his own wellbeing. He decided his brother might feel better and be able to hold down his meds if he put something on his stomach. So, even though he wasn't particularly hungry yet himself, he decided to lay off the lecture for now. Instead, he shrugged his shoulders and aimed for a casual tone.

"I'm starting to get hungry, how 'bout we stop at the next exit?"

Dean just stared out the passenger side window and mumbled, "Whatever, you're drivin'."

"Well," Sam teased "we could always trade-in the Impala on one of those new cars you can practically drive with one finger. That way, next time a pissed off spirit throws you into a brick wall and breaks your right arm, you won't have to ride shotgun. Plus, we could use something that gets better gas mileage."

Dean half-heartedly flipped his brother off with his left hand. "Why are you so cheerful, anyway? What exactly is the cause for the big celebration here, huh?"

"Dean" Sam started and then sighed, trying to think of a way to get through his brother's funk. "Dude, after everything that's happened over the last few years, I'm just tired of us beating ourselves up is all. I mean, _come on_. We survived! Like I said before, Satan has left the building. That's at least worth taking a day or two off to celebrate. Don't you think? "

"It's not over. Sam," Dean replied in an exhausted tone. "It's never over. I mean, maybe we don't have the devil on our heels, but it's always something. I'm sorry, but we can't afford to just pretend like everything's sunshine and puppy dogs… Cause just as sure as we do, somethin' nasty's gonna jump up and bite us right in the ass."

Sam took his eyes off the road long enough to take in his brother's slumped shoulders and hopeless expression.

"Dean, I know that," he said seriously. "_I know_. Believe me. I accepted a long time ago that this is the way our life is. But, that doesn't mean we can't have a little fun when we get the chance. I'm probably on borrowed time as it is."

Dean visibly flinched a little at that statement, but Sam plowed on: "Seriously. That wall, or whatever it is, that Death put in my head, it could come down at any time and you know what that means, man. Besides, you almost died. Well, technically you did die … just to get my soul back. After everything you've sacrificed, the risk you took… I don't think either of us should waste this second chance is all." Sam, tried to meet his brother's evasive gaze as he continued, "I know our lives are far from perfect Dean, but it is what we make it. You've just gotta try a little."

"Well thank you, Dr. Phil," Dean deadpanned sarcastically, but couldn't help cracking a small smile at the fact that Sam was so unlike his previously soulless self. "You know," he continued, "I'm gonna have to have a little talk with Death about that soul of yours."

"Why?" Sam asked, a little panicky at the idea of his brother having another encounter with the Horseman. His luck wasn't going to hold out forever.

"Because, I think he gave you the wrong one. I'm afraid he shoved Oprah up in you man." Dean gave an exaggerated shudder of disgust. "Geez, either you're _way more_ of a girl than I remembered or something is seriously wrong with you, bro."

"Hilarious," Sam said with a genuine smile as he flipped on the turn signal and began to exit the highway. He had at least succeeded in substituting sullen Dean for crappy-comedian Dean. Sometimes you really did have to celebrate the little things.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"This is really stupid, Buffy." Dawn folded her arms and gave her sister her best pout. "The Grand Canyon? Seriously? What are we, the Brady's? Why can't we go somewhere cool? Hellllooo, almost college-student here. How about Cancun? I hear the drinking age is like 10."

"Relax, Dawn. You never know, it just might be the coolest place you've ever seen." Buffy chirped cheerily back at her sister.

Buffy was not going to let Dawn's complaining ruin the first vacation she'd had in …well, _ever_. At least since she'd been the Slayer anyway. She adjusted her new Ray Bans, and gave her sister a sunny smile, enjoying the feel of the breeze in her hair. She had a brand new, cherry-red, convertible Camaro (paid for by the Council, thank you very much) and two weeks off. This was also Dawn's last summer before starting college, and they were going to have a nice family road trip, even if she had to kill her only sister to do it.

Dawn seethed from the passenger seat. She hated chipper-Buffy. Well, no she didn't really. But, she did hate it when chipper-Buffy was standing in the way of what she wanted. She'd almost rather deal with pissed-off-Buffy or even depresso-Buffy right now. It was nearly impossible to argue with a cheery Buffy once she'd made up her mind. But she wasn't giving up too easily and decided to try another tactic.

"Buffy, it's just… Look, I know you never take any time for yourself, and you probably don't even know how to have a vacation." Buffy rolled her eyes at her sister, but Dawn hurried on undeterred. "The Grand Canyon? It's just for old people and kids. Plus, all this driving. What kind of a vacation is that? You deserve to go somewhere relaxing. _You know_, someplace that has cute cabana boys and umbrellas in the drinks, not old men in knee socks and bratty, whiney kids."

"Bratty whiney kids, huh?" Buffy said with a sidelong glance at her sister.

Dawn deliberately ignored the insinuation. "Exactly! Who knows when you'll be able to take time off again? You don't wanna waste this opportunity, Buffy. Trust me," she said. shaking a finger in emphasis. "You'll regret it."

"I'm already regretting it."

"Ha, Ha. Just don't come crying to me when you're all sad that you wasted your vacation. Because I'm not too big of a person to say _I told you so_."

"I'm sure you're not," Buffy agreed. "But, you are missing the point here, Dawnie."

Chipper-Buffy would not be deterred. She plastered her saccharine smile back on and patted her little sister on the knee. "The point," she continued, "is that I'm free for two _entire_ weeks and I'm going to do whatever pops into my little head. No plans, no reservations. We just take our time and enjoy ourselves. Might even stop to see that giant ball of yarn I've been hearing so much about."

The last earned a groan from her sister.

"Seriously, Dawn. It's not about the destination, it's about the journey."

Dawn brightened for a moment. "So, if the destination's not important, then why can't we…?"

"Hush, Dawn. My car, my money. That makes me the boss of this little adventure," Buffy interrupted.

She glanced over to see her sister, arms-crossed, pout firmly back in place. Oh crap, she thought, this is going great. She better throw Dawn a bone or else she was going to make this trip _completely_ unbearable.

"It's not like we're gonna camp out or anything," she quickly added in her most persuading tone. "I, for one, am not volunteering to sleep in the dirt. Not this California girl. Besides, my sister deserves only the nicest hotels. I bet we can find one with a good spa. Get a good facial, a cute-guy masseuse. Come on, Dawnie! It'll be fun. Trust me," she added with a wink.

"Okay," Dawn agreed doubtfully. "I'll give it a chance. _But_ if this all sucks, I get to say _'I told you so'_ on a VERY public billboard, complete with the worst picture of you I can find… and you have to give me the money to go to Cancun over my first spring break."

"We'll see," Buffy agreed drily.

"Aaaand," Dawn smirked "you have to give me _the_ blouse. You know, the green one? It looks better on me anyway."

"Don't push it."

"Yay!" Dawn bounced in her seat a little in excitement, clapping her hands together. "I hope this is the WORST vacation in the history of the world."

Buffy rolled her eyes and looked back at the road, a devious smile on her face. "Hey sis," she queried happily. "Do you remember that apocalypse last year?"

_Here we go_, Dawn thought. Her sister only talked about last year's stupid non-apocalypse every five minutes. Lucky her, it was once again time for the Slayer's one-thousandth rendition of the same story. Well almost the same ... Buffy always seemed to mix up the apocalyptic signs and all the technical hoopla. While Dawn did understand why Buffy was happy to feel that she wasn't the center of every world-ending scenario, it was starting to get annoying.

"No, Buffy," she answered in a flat tone. "Why don't you tell me all about it?"

"Well, I'm not surprised you don't remember. It was _very _un-apocalypty," her sister beamed, while Dawn prepared to tune out. "Don't get me wrong, there were signs and everything. Some really bad weather and stuff … and boiling fish. I think it was boiling fish … oh, and a baby goat with three heads. Poor baby goat. Anyway, some demons I beat up claimed it was the _real _devil that was causing all the trouble...pfft. Of course they all claim to be the baddest of the big bads. So, whatever. I was gonna help - I really was - but Will couldn't get me the lowdown. Said she couldn't see anything. It was like everything was hidden from her or something."

Then," Buffy paused dramatically, "it all magically just _poof_ went away. World still here and everything. The very best part, was that I didn't even have to die this time. And that, Dawn, is why I think it's past time we enjoyed ourselves, have the family vacation we never got to have. Because, apparently an apocalypse can come and go and I don't even have to break a nail."

"That's great, Buffy."


	2. Chapter 2

The vacation had actually been going pretty well, Sam decided.

Dean had been playing along for the most part, although he suspected his brother was probably just making nice for his sake. The man was way more transparent than he'd ever admit to being. Sam honestly hadn't meant to make him feel guilty about his 'hell wall situation' as he was starting to think of it. Truth was, he was making this little side trip more for Dean's benefit than his own.

His older brother was really starting to worry him.

Sam knew that Dean had been in trouble for a while – years, in fact. It wasn't that he hadn't noticed. He didn't think he could feel any worse than he already did about the part he played in it all. But, neither of them had exactly been in the best of shape since Dad died and it was an understatement to say it only got worse from there.

He felt like this was the first time - _in what felt like a million years_ - that he'd been able to look past his own issues long enough to really see what was going on with his only remaining family member. It was funny what having Lucifer stuffed back in his cage did for ones' ability to focus.

They had found a pretty decent motel (clean, anyway) a few miles from Grand Canyon National Park. Their room had an impressively cheesy Southwest motif. Dean had gotten a lot of mileage out of the painting of the Indian maiden hanging above the toilet. He swore he couldn't concentrate on taking a piss with her "staring at his junk".

Sam had to admit her gaze did seem to be disturbingly focused toward that general area and, once again, had to wonder if these places hired crackheads for interior designers.

Another weird design decision was the positioning of the air conditioning vent. It was literally right below the rim of the toilet bowl and always seemed to kick on at the worst possible time. That morning, he'd heard his brother telling the painting to, "lay off the damn, smart ass expression, because it's freakin' cold in here."

They had gone out to a local diner the night before. Sam made sure to drive them to one that looked like a family-friendly establishment, meaning no alcohol. He didn't want a repeat performance of the previous evening's drunken, painkiller fest. He had to admit that Dean could hold his liquor exceptionally well, but that all seemed to fly out the window once narcotics were added to the mix. Not to mention the fact that combining the two wasn't known to be the safest thing in the world - even by the Winchester family's famously low standards.

Their waitress had been a really cute redhead who didn't seem at all shy about showing off her generous cleavage. Dean was predictably impressed and had flirted with her throughout the meal. He didn't seem to make any real effort to move beyond that, though. Sam never thought he'd say this, but he was beginning to think the guy needed to get laid. He realized he was still hurting over the way things went with Lisa. But, from what little he'd been able to pull out of his brother, it appeared like she was moving on and he thought Dean should do the same. He should at least try, anyway.

After dinner, he'd actually- _and he was proud of this one_ - talked his big brother into going to the movies with him. They watched the most brainless and crude comedy that was currently running.

He couldn't remember the last time they'd actually gone to a real theater. They usually watched whatever was on cable or the occasional pay-per-view - especially if whoever they were currently pretending to be had a pretty decent credit limit. Of course, his brother couldn't let the night go by without mentioning at least twice that Sam was by far the _ugliest_ chick he'd ever been on a movie date with.

By the time they got back to their room it was just before midnight. They had both nursed a beer while watching _Seinfeld _reruns. He was glad to see that Dean barely finished the one. He guessed they had both fallen asleep with the TV on by 1am. Another rare occurrence.

It had actually turned out to be a really fun night. He knew his brother would never admit it, but it was nice to just chill out and spend some time together that didn't involve mortal danger and/or copious amounts of alcohol.

All things considered, Sam was pretty happy at the moment. Dean had made one or two smart ass comments that morning after he'd returned from the lobby with a handful of brochures, but his older brother still seemed to be in a passably good mood. Also, he'd only put up minimal resistance to getting ready and heading out for the day.

It looked like they might actually have a decent time in Arizona, after all.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dawn was kind of enjoying herself, although she'd never admit that to her sister. She did have a reputation to uphold and, more importantly, a _super sweet_ spring break trip on the line.

Buffy had kept her word about the hotel. She'd gotten them a suite at _El Tovar_, a hotel that was actually inside the park itself. It was pretty swank and Albert Einstein had once stayed there. So, that was cool.

Xander had given Dawn a little speech before she and her sister had left Cleveland and she really was trying to play nice. The speech went something like: "Take it easy on Buff, this is important to her … blah blah… you're almost a free woman."

A free woman.

Now _that_ was something Dawn could not wait to be. Buffy had been _waaay_ too smothering over the past year. She loved her sister, but she was very much looking forward to Fall when she would be in college… and hours away from the Slayer.

After Sunnydale imploded, things had been extremely hectic for about a year. Buffy had been super busy helping to rebuild the Council and organizing the potentials-turned-slayers. It had all been a whirlwind.

Finally, they had setup a new headquarters in Cleveland – because, hellmouth - and Buffy actually had an office now, of all things. She was mostly in charge of training the newbies. She still patrolled, but usually with a few junior slayers along for the ride. Her sister usually let them get in most of the staking for the 'on the job experience' factor. Buffy herself was mostly on reserve for special occasions, i.e. the big nasties with world-ending ambitions.

The new situation had left her sister with a lot more free time. Unfortunately, Buffy had decided that mothering Dawn was a good way to spend her down time. Dawn appreciated it. _She did._ Intheory, anyway.

She knew Buffy felt like she had a lot to make up for and that she'd been a poor replacement for Mom. The thing was, Dawn didn't expect Buffy to be Mom. She'd grown up a lot in the past few years, even though her sister seemed unable to see it. She had come to appreciate what her sister had been through. Now that she was only two years younger than Buffy had been when Mom died, she could begin to imagine how terrifying that time had to have been for Buffy. The sheer weight of suddenly being responsible for a teenager _and_ being the one-and-only Slayer would have been too much for anyone.

She just wished her sister would try to be more of a friend and less of a mom. When Dawn had lost her virginity last year, she thought the Slayer was going to cut the guy's head off. She should have known better than to even tell her. She was just trying to bond on a more adult level.

What a mistake that turned out to be.

You'd have thought Buffy was 'little miss pure and innocent' the way she'd flipped out. Apparently, it was all well and good for her to screw a 240-year-old dead guy when she was 17, but Dawn messing around with a plain old _living_ high school boy was cause for panic on an epic scale.

Of course, she did wonder if Buffy might be practicing to be a nun. Since the thing with 'The Immortal' had fizzled, she hadn't really done anything in the dating department. That guy's ego had deserved its own country - that was for sure. Fortunately, her sister hadn't seemed all that broken up when it ended. She kind of got the impression that Buffy had actually been the one to blow him off. No great loss there. Too bad that, ever since, she'd dedicated herself to being Super Mom.

Super Annoying Mom was more like it.

But, no worries …because, come August, she was going to be 500 miles away in the mountains of Tennessee.

She'd decided to go to the University of Tennessee, because the original forensic Body Farm had been founded there AND it was 500 miles away. She was a _CSI_ junkie, plus the council could probably use somebody that could identify a cause of death. Or, she might just decide to do her own thing. She could work for the police or something. She bet she'd be really good at badgering witnesses.

So, she'd let Little Miss Suzie Homemaker have her old fashioned, family vacation. It wasn't so bad, really. At least it had its perks.

Hopefully, their time apart next year would force her sister to realize that Dawn was an adult now, an adult who gets to have her own life … and sex, if that's what she wants. Maybe they'd be able to be more like the friends she hoped they could be. Besides, Buffy needed to get a new hobby. If anybody needed to get laid, it was the Slayer.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I have no earthly idea what you call those pay-to-use-binocular-view-finder-thingies - that turn up at almost every scenic tourist spot - are actually called. I'm assuming here that the Grand Canyon actually has those and I'm also fairly sure they have a more concise name, but Google was not being my friend.

Disclaimer: Still only playing. Full credit to Joss Whedon and Eric Kripke for creating the characters.

* * *

The South Rim of the canyon in June turned out to be a very busy place.

The Winchesters had been unable to find a place to park at the first overlook they came to, but finally managed to snag a spot at the second.

The view was amazing. They had been lucky to arrive on a virtually cloudless day, and the line of sight was unobstructed for miles.

Dean had to admit – strictly to himself - that he was impressed

"Dude! That is one big-ass hole in the ground," he observed for at least the second time.

"Yeah man, it's _grand_ alright," Sam replied with a grin, not being able to resist the corny pun.

"It's too bad my arm's broke, cause I'd pay good money to see your lanky ass on one of those donkey tours."

"They're mules, Dean, and keep dreaming."

Dean decided to ignore Sam's insistence on constantly correcting him in favor of keeping this light and asked, "What's the big difference, anyway?"

"A mule is a cross between a horse and a donkey."

"Oh yeah, _huh_. That's kinda kinky, ain't it?"

"You're thinking about 'donkey shows' again, Dean. There's _real life_ and then there's _porn_, remember?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Buffy, do you have to keep looking at that map? You're making us look like tourists."

"Everybody here is a tourist, smarty pants. This is a tourist attraction. I just want to be sure we see all the good stuff."

"Oooooh, speaking of good stuff," Dawn said, suddenly sounding less bored. "I see something that's not on your dorky little map."

Buffy followed Dawn's gaze to see two guys standing about 20 feet away. She did have to admit, they were definitely of the cute. Hot, really. One was really tall with kinda longish hair and when he laughed at his friend he revealed large dimples. Buffy was down with that. The other guy … Well, the other guy had features that were almost perfect, but not too perfect. He still had a rugged thing going for him. Buffy was most definitely down with that.

"Yeah," she admitted with a nod, "they do make for a pretty interesting view."

"We should go talk to them."

"What? Dawn, are you kidding? They're here to see the canyon. This isn't a club. What would we say, anyway?"

"How about _hello_? God, Buffy, I see why you never have any dates."

"As always, I thank you for your support," Buffy replied flatly.

Her sister ignored Buffy's sarcastic reply and with a look of inspiration began digging through her change purse.

"Do you have a dime?"

"Probably… Why?"

"Because, I wanna use those binocular thingies."

"Those thingies take quarters, Dawn, and it looks like you have at least three or four in there."

"I know that, but I have a plan."

_Well this can't go wrong_, Buffy thought as she fished a dime out of her bag. "Here," she said as she placed it in her sister's outstretched palm and raised a brow suspiciously. "Now, do I even want to know what this brilliant plan of yours involves? Just remember, I left all my weapons in the trunk."

"Just watch the master," Dawn grinned. She then turned and walked straight toward the guys she'd been ogling.

Buffy's eyes widened. Where did her sister get the nerve to pull these stunts? She was glad there was no way this was going to end up being epically embarrassing.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sam felt a tug on his sleeve and turned around to see a very pretty teen girl standing in front of him. She was displaying some change in her hand and flashed him a very flirtatious smile.

"Excuse me … Hi … Do you have a quarter? I can give you two dimes and a nickel for it. I just wanted to use that binocular-view-thingy, but it only takes quarters."

"Yeah, sure," he replied. "Just let me see what I have."

Sam began digging through his pockets when his brother reached past him to hand the teen a quarter.

"No problem, sweetheart," he drawled. "You can keep the change. Wouldn't want you to miss the view."

"Cool, thanks! Um ... I'm Dawn by the way."

Dawn was mostly looking at Really Tall Guy while she thanked Cast Guy. They both looked really hot, but tall-guy looked younger and he was more her type.

Dean quickly caught on to the girl's interest in his brother. He was so gonna give Sam hell for this. Little bro was being picked up by Hannah Montana. _Good times._ You couldn't pay for this type of entertainment. It was time to stir the pot.

"Good to meet you, Dawn," he said in his most friendly tone. "I'm Dean and that's my little brother, Sammy. He's in a boy band. Lead singer, too."

Sam politely offered his hand for Dawn to shake. "It's just _Sam_, actually, and sorry about him," he said, narrowing his eyes at Dean. "He's … well, he's never been funny."

"Nice to meet you," Dawn responded, keeping her eyes on Sam. "So, you guys are here to see the Canyon?"

_Brilliant move there Dawnie._

She was mortified. It didn't help that the older one looked like he was thoroughly amused. The tall one, Sam, looked a little unsure, but he smiled politely when he replied.

"Uh … yeah. We're here to see the Canyon. You too, I guess?"

"Yeah, yeah, here to see the Canyon. I just meant - you know -were you here like as tourists or are you locals? Which would mean, of course, that you're still here to see the Canyon, but if you're local then you're always _here, here_… Like, here in Arizona …Because you live here. Ya know?"

Sam wanted to interrupt Dawn's ramble because it was pretty painful to watch, but the girl wasn't taking a breath.

"So anyway, we're here as tourists. Me and my sister, I mean. It's a whole family vacation thing. Hold on."

Dawn spun around toward said sister, who promptly buried her face in the map she was holding.

"Buffy!" she bellowed

"A little louder, Dawn, don't you think there might be somebody in the next state that didn't hear?" she mumbled to herself. Buffy reluctantly looked up to see her younger sister desperately motioning her over.

No escape. She might as well just suck it up and go on over there.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Now this was a real woman, Dean decided.

Buffy had offered her hand, and then blushed a little when she realized he couldn't exactly shake it properly. Dean just gave her a wink, and made a big show of grasping her hand in his left. He also gave her his most lecherous grin.

"Sorry about that, I'm a little laid up right now."

This one's trouble, Buffy decided. He's hot, he's charming, and he's completely full of himself. The trifecta of badness. Time to run, girl.

"Sorry about that," she said. "Guess I'm not really observant-girl."

"Not a problem, sweetheart"

"So …. " _God, Buffy had no idea what to say. Dammit, Dawn_! "Brothers huh?" she finally ventured. "I guess this really is _the_ family vacation spot."

"Yeah, Sam and I had a little break from the job. We were close, so I thought _what the hell_. It is something everybody should see, you know."

Dean could actually feel his brother rolling his eyes beside him, but he kept his focus on Buffy.

"That's what I've been trying to tell Dawn. It's a national treasure and all that."

Speaking of Dawn, she seemed to have temporarily run out of things to say, for quite possibly the very first time in her life. Buffy could tell by her wide-eyed and pleading look that she was practically begging her to save the day. So, she racked her brain for small talk. She had been called to save the world, after all.

"You guys say you're in town for a job?" she asked. "What is it you do?"

Buffy mentally smacked herself in the head. That was quite possibly one of the top 10 questions she should never, ever ask a stranger. Because, then they were going to want to know what she did and that would inevitably lead to her saying something lame. She really should have a cover story for situations like this. She'd definitely have to put it on her to-do list.

Dean was feeling a little mischievous, he thought it might be the Vicodin getting to him. Besides, it wasn't like he'd ever see these girls again. So, he decided to go for extra ridiculous this time.

"We're architects. _Vandelay Industries_. They send us all over. Don't they, Sam?"

Sam was clearly a little thrown by that one and he was pretty adept at playing along with his brother's crazy, fake identities. He cleared his throat a little, and struggled to keep a straight face.

"Yeah … all over the place… _Vandelay Industries_. It's really interesting work."

_Architects my ass_, Dawn thought. Those two were messing with them. _Vandelay Industries_? She couldn't put her finger on it right now, but she knew when she was being played. And two could play at that game.

"So what is it you do, Buffy?" Sam asked, hoping to change the subject.

"She owns a tattoo parlor," Dawn said flatly, jumping in before her sister could even open her mouth. She'd just see what they had to say to that.

"A tattoo parlor?" Sam definitely appeared a little doubtful.

"Um … yeah," Buffy answered, sounding like she was trying to convince herself.

"That's awesome! Bet you've got some cool ink you can show us."

Buffy took one look at Dean's raised eyebrows and expectant grin and groaned inwardly. She was going to smack Dawn for this one and she might even use a teeny-tiny bit of Slayer power too.

"I … well … I mainly just do the paperwork," she struggled to explain. "It's more of an investment, really."

"That's too bad," Dean replied. "Chicks with tattoos are hot. Not that you need any help with that," he added quickly.

"Good to know," Buffy said with a deliberately obvious eye roll. However, Dean didn't look at all chastised. He just threw her a wink. The guy really was ridiculously full of himself. She decided she'd had enough painful small talk and suggestive leers for one day.

"So, Dawn, don't you think we should let these guys get back to enjoying their vacation?"

Dawn felt like she had her mojo back now. Something about seeing the Slayer squirm always did that for her. _Did that make her evil?_ Oh well, in any case she wasn't going to let these guys off the hook yet. She could only stare at a giant hole in the ground for so long.

"Well, actually I could go for some lunch. You guys hungry?" she added hopefully.

"_Starved_," Dean replied.


	4. Chapter 4

It was fairly obvious that his brother was attracted to the blonde. So, when Sam realized that Dean was interested in actually spending more time with her, he suggested they all go to the Grand Canyon Village. The Village was basically the main tourist hub for the Canyon. It had a visitor's center, a train depot, some shops, and a deli. He'd remembered it from the brochures and knew it had to be fairly close by.

The older sister seemed a little reluctant at first, but Sam was quickly finding out that Dawn could be very persistent when she set her sights on something. Buffy had finally seemed resigned to just going along. Probably something to do with picking her battles if he had to guess.

In the end, they had ended up taking separate cars to get there. He was sure Buffy probably had reservations about riding with the two of them. He couldn't blame her for being cautious. After all, he and Dean were just two strange men they'd known for all of about ten minutes.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Buffy had given in to Dawn's pleading and agreed to go along with the guys for some lunch. She didn't think there was any harm in it and she did still have to live with Dawn for a few more months. There would be no end to the bitch-fest if she denied her sister this time.

Fake architects or not, she wasn't getting any evil vibes from them. Probably would have even accepted their offer of a ride, if it hadn't been for the fact that the scythe was in the Camaro's trunk. That was one thing she didn't like being very far away from. It was kind of like a security blanket….except a lot shinier and far less snugly.

She would have offered them a ride, but her backseat was only a backseat in the strictest sense of the word. There was no way a grown man was going to fit comfortably in there - especially not grown men of their size. Although after Dean's "_nice chick car"_ comment, she'd have kind of enjoyed seeing him squished back there.

The short ride was also a good opportunity to attempt to have a little talk with her sister regarding the wisdom of being so forward with guys she'd only just met. She was going to be on her own soon, and Buffy was afraid of what might happen without someone around to put a leash on her. So, like any good big sister would, she tried to instill a healthy fear of college boys into her baby sis.

She told Dawn the story of the encounter she'd had with some friendly fraternity brothers and their hungry pet lizard-boy. She'd still been secret-identity-girl when that had happened and wasn't sure her sister had ever heard that tale.

Based on her sister's huffing and claims of being treated like a child, it turned out to be a complete waste of breath. But, on the bright side, she hoped Dawn had maxed out her quota of eye-rolls and sarcastic snorts for the day. There was no harm in dreaming, anyway.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Once both cars had arrived, they all headed over to the Village Deli to grab some lunch. There was an open booth near the back, and Sam slid into the side facing the door. Normally, he'd have taken the opposite seat - knowing his brother's intense dislike of having his back to a door - but he figured they'd sit together this time. He should have known that the brunette wasn't about to let that happen.

Dawn had practically knocked Dean down in her rush to claim the seat beside Sam, earning her a "_Where's the fire_?" from his older brother. Dawn had blushed (maybe she did have a little shame) and mumbled something about "starving to death".

Sam was hoping his karmic balance sheet was inching at least a little more toward the black. He was beginning to think he deserved a medal, to be honest. That Dawn girl … Well, she certainly was friendly. He was just glad they were in a very public place. Otherwise, he had the feeling he might be fending off a little more than just blatant flirting. Sam had also decided it was best to strategically avoid eye contact with his brother by this point. He knew that if nothing else went right on this little adventure, Dean was going to be endlessly entertained by his discomfort.

Dean, for his part, didn't seem too disappointed to be forced to share with Buffy. In fact, he seemed a lot more relaxed than he'd been in a while. He graciously offered her the inside seat before sliding in beside her with a grin.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Let's see…" Buffy began as she poured over the menu. "I could have the $15 turkey and swiss sandwich … and ooh, look for only $2 extra I can add an _entire _slice of bacon. Chips are still extra, though"

"You ladies order whatever you want, it's on me and Sam," Dean said smoothly. "You can even have two slices of bacon."

He was really working to lay on the charm. He couldn't seem to stop staring at this girl. Her face was so expressive, and she had an interesting way of talking. He also loved the way her lower lip seemed to be stuck in a permanent pout. This little lady had a look that hit just the right note between wholesome and sultry - the one that made his pants suddenly feel a little too tight.

"No, no… I didn't mean. Really, I've got me and Dawn," Buffy answered quickly. "I just can't believe any place would have the nerve to charge $15 for a deli sandwich is all. Tourist trap much?"

"It's the view you're paying for, sweetheart."

Somehow, Buffy doubted he was talking about the natural wonders of the Canyon. She could feel his eyes on her the whole time they'd been sitting there and it was making her a little nervous. Not nervous in a creepy/evil guy _yuck _sort of way. Actually, she could handle that kind of thing with no sweat.

Creepy and evil, Buffy had that covered. But, hot and cocky, walking-sex guy…. that was a little scary. _And what did that say about her psyche?_ It was time to move onto a line of conversation with a little less potential for double entendre.

"What happened to your arm, by the way?" she asked casually, pointing to the sling.

"On the job accident. Broke it in two places. So I get to wear this damn thing for the next six weeks."

Dean actually felt a little bad about lying to her. Well, he wasn't technically lying … it had happened on the job. Still, she seemed like a pretty nice girl and he didn't feel right just pumping her full of bullshit. Although, he wasn't so sure he bought the tale about her running a tattoo shop. In any case, he'd found that once you started one of these lies you had to go all out or go home. It wasn't like she'd be around long enough for it to make a difference anyway. Maybe in some other guy's life, but not in his. Not the way he lived.

"Really?" Buffy questioned him. "I thought you guys usually made drawings and stuff like that. Does this sort of thing happen a lot in your line of work?"

She was deliberately teasing him. She knew it probably wasn't smart (given the fact that she hadn't exactly been miss on-the-level about her profession either) but, she couldn't seem to resist.

"To him it does," Sam interrupted. "You'd be surprised how much trouble he can get into with a few pencils."

"Oh, Sam's just jealous that he's not hands-on like I am. I like to get out on the job site … get my hands dirty. Wanna be sure the workers are really grasping my artistic vision."

"Your vision, huh? That sounds serious," Buffy replied with a smirk and more than a hint of sarcasm.

Sam let a laugh slip at that one and got his shin a kick under the table for it. He was really starting to like this girl. She didn't seem to buy into his brother's bullshit for a minute, plus she was stunningly beautiful. He really wished Dean could have a woman like this in his life. It was a shame her little sister was such a handful, though.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Their overpriced lunch was interrupted when a middle aged man stood in front of the room and called the diners to attention. The guy was wearing a cheap tie and a name tag and holding a sheet of paper in front of him. He was also balding and sporting an embarrassingly bad comb-over. The deli manager, more than likely.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your meal," he began. "The Ranger Service has asked that we try to get the word out to everybody we can. I don't wish to alarm people… but an Amber Alert has recently been issued for four young children. They were reportedly abducted near one of the hiking trails on the South Rim at about four o'clock yesterday afternoon." The man then looked back down at the paper he was holding and began to read in a monotone.

"Emma Henderson is a 7-year-old female, Caucasian, with auburn hair, blue eyes, and weighs approximately 60 pounds. Rachel Henderson is a 5-year-old Caucasian girl, has blond hair and blue eyes, weighs approximately 45 pounds. Laura Kelly is a 4-year-old Caucasian female, has brown hair, brown eyes, and weighs approximately 40 pounds. Brian Kelly is an 8-year-old, Caucasian male with brown hair, brown eyes, and weighs approximately 70 pounds."

"If you believe you've see any of these children, or if you have any information that might help, dial 911 or contact the Ranger Service immediately," the man concluded.

The restaurant was suddenly abuzz with shocked and concerned patrons, many of them parents.

A woman, who appeared to be in her mid-thirties with two elementary-aged children by her side, questioned the manager anxiously.

"Should we be worried about our children? Is it even safe for us to be here?"

"Security has been increased ma'am," the bald guy assured her. "Law enforcement and volunteers are currently searching the area. We believe everyone is safe and there's currently no need to alter any of your plans."

Dean couldn't resist a sarcastic laugh at that comment, which earned him more than a few dirty looks from the other patrons. Civilians really did have an amazing ability to bury their heads in the sand. "_Kids are getting snatched, but enjoy your stay, be sure to visit the gift shop." _ It would be funny if it weren't so damn tragic.

"So, do we have any idea who did this?" Dean asked.

We don't have a lot of details," the manager replied. "It was two families on an overnight camping trip. In all the confusion the adults got lost on their way back…didn't actually make it to the Ranger Station until this morning. The one who actually saw the kidnappers isn't making a whole lot of sense. He said there were three of them, but can't give a reliable description. The man suffered a head injury, and seems a little confused about what happened. Poor guy claimed they didn't look human," he added with a shake of his head. "The doctors are hoping his memory will clear-up soon."

"Did he say what they did look like?" Dean pressed.

Sam noticed Buffy was giving Dean a quizzical look, but she also seemed really interested in hearing the manager's answer to his question.

"I don't know, sir," he replied. The manager was beginning to sound annoyed. "Like I said before, the poor man took a pretty good hit to the head, and of course he's very traumatized. He probably has no idea _what_ he saw. I'm sure they'll release more information when they have it."

The man looked away from Dean and addressed the restaurant as a whole again. "I just want to remind everybody: Keep an eye out and don't hesitate to call the authorities if you even think you see something that might be connected. I'll let you folks get back to your meal now. Again, I apologize for the interruption. Hope everyone enjoys their stay."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The older siblings were noticeably quiet for the remainder of the meal. Both seemed lost in their own thoughts, only giving short and vague answers to any questions asked of them. Dean even put a hold on the leering, seemingly fascinated by his roast beef club. This left Dawn with the opportunity to entertain Sam with a running monologue of teenage intrigue.

There were various tales of her exploits with her BFF Sierra and he learned how much and why she hated Selena. _Selena was apparently the biggest whore in all of Cleveland_. Finally he was educated in the pitfalls and hazards of making thoughtless _Facebook_ postings. How the girl managed to touch, much less finish her tuna melt was a testament to her superior verbal skills. Of course it helped that, much like his older brother, Dawn seemed to have no taboo against speaking with her mouth full. Sam was really going to need a drink after all of this.

Buffy, still looking distracted, had put up little resistance to allowing Dean to pay the tab. She did, however, insist on leaving the tip.

Sam knew what was up with his brother. He was sure he'd latched onto the "_didn't look human_" comment like a dog with a bone. He could just picture his wheels turning. Buffy, on the other hand, he supposed was simply bothered by the idea that someone nearby was kidnapping children. After all, you didn't have to know about the supernatural to find something like that disturbing.

Sam and Dean walked the sisters to their car before saying their goodbyes. Dawn, of course, was pushing to see what their plans were and how long they'd be in town.

"Sorry doll, we've got another job we need to get to." Dean answered her. He was friendly, but obviously in a hurry to get moving.

Dawn was visibly disappointed, but quickly shoved a slip of paper into Sam's hand anyway. Obviously, she already had it prepared.

"That's my cell. Buffy and I will be here a few more days and it'll probably just be _really_ boring. So, if you guys do end up staying in town longer, give us a call."

"Jeez, Dawn, I'm really feeling the love here," Buffy added.

Dean ignored Dawn, and stepped toward Buffy, looking down at her with a serious look in his eyes.

"You and your sister weren't planning on going camping anywhere around here were you?" he asked. "Because, I'm not so sure that's such a great idea right now."

Normally, Buffy would have been insulted that a man was insinuating she couldn't take care of herself. However, something about his demeanor kept her from taking offense. He seemed to be truly sincere. Plus, he'd asked that guy those questions. It was almost like he was a completely different person. _Maybe there was more to him than cute-cocky-guy, after all. _Instead of defending her independence, she gave him a genuine smile.

"You don't have to worry about that. Buffy and camping don't mix. It's all room service and hot showers for this girl." It wasn't a total lie. She certainly didn't plan on camping. She might have to go into the Canyon to do a little snooping around, but no camping. She wasn't lying about that not being her thing.

Dean actually looked relieved, to Buffy's continued surprise. Then, he grinned at her - a little of the cocky-guy slipping back in - and told her to "stay safe".

Buffy assured him she intended to and gave a little wave to Sam as they walked away. Fake-architect Sam seemed like a pretty good guy, and he had been incredibly patient with Dawn. She'd caught part of her little ramble during lunch and _wow!_ That had to have been fun. She knew her sister was gonna be mega-pissed at her, but she called over to him as he was climbing into his car.

"Hey, Sam, be careful what you put on _Facebook_." she teased.

"Always am," he replied with a laugh, looking a little embarrassed. Buffy could see why her sister was so taken with him. He did have the 'sweet and innocent, yet big and burly' thing nailed.

And, just as she had expected, Dawn gave her a pretty vicious slap on the arm before climbing into the passenger seat to sulk.

Now, Buffy just had to find out exactly where in the Canyon she needed to do her snooping.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I did a little internet research into Native American legends for this. I'm definitely taking some creative license with what I've found. I hope no one is offended, because I really don't intend it that way. I honestly just couldn't come up with any original ideas of my own :-(

Also want to give thanks to my beta reader, isugirl.

* * *

"I'm just not sure what I'm supposed to be looking for here, man. We don't exactly have a lot to go on."

Sam sat at the small table in their motel room, frowning at his laptop.

"I know," Dean admitted with a sigh, "But if we could just get close to that witness."

"Not gonna happen. You saw that Ranger Station. I think every cop in the state is there… Plus, the media is all over this thing. _Way_ too hot for our usual routine."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure I saw that chick from _Good Morning America_."

"Don't bite my head off, dude, but are you even sure this is our kind of thing? I mean, that man probably has a concussion and we both know how those can screw with your memory. This whole thing is terrible – I'm completely on board - but I'm still not so sure it's our kind of terrible."

"I told you Sam, my instinct is screamin' at me! I _know _something's not right here, and we've looked into cases on less before. Just find whatever you can."

"On what, exactly?"

"On Charlie Sheen. What do you think!"

Sam just shook his head and sighed, going back to his "_research"_. It was like finding a needle in a stack of needles. He was, however, well versed in how upset his brother became when children were involved. So, he decided not to fan the flames.

Dean was pacing the room like a caged lion, getting more agitated by the second. He knew he was giving his brother a hard time, but he just had a feeling in his gut and his gut was usually pretty damn reliable. Those kids had been missing for going on 24-hours. It wasn't like there was a whole lot of time to spare. Plus, they already knew where they needed to start looking.

The Winchesters had been able to chat up some hardcore outdoor-types at a local outfitter. Those guys had given them a better picture of exactly where this mess had gone down.

Fortunately, the store also had some real maps of the Canyon and its trails, not the crap they give out to tourists. Once they'd grabbed a few of those and a couple canteens, Dean was ready to hit the road.

It was only at Sam's insistence that they weren't hiking into the Canyon at this very moment. Little brother had insisted on doing at least some research… and he was probably right. He usually was about this kind of thing. If he didn't know better he'd swear the kid had been a _Boy Scout._

"Find something yet, Sam?" Dean asked impatiently.

"Too much, really. Problem is… it could be almost anything. For one thing, I'm sure the whole area is crawling with ghosts. People get killed in the Canyon every year, not including the ones that get lost and are never seen again."

"I don't think we're dealing with spirits here." Dean said, shaking his head. "Broad daylight … three of 'em… just doesn't fit. What else you got?"

"Well, the Canyon is really important in Native American mythology. The Hopi had one legend about something called a Cheveyo. It's kinda like an ogre. The natives used to tell stories about it to scare naughty children."

"Sounds good. How do we kill it?"

"Don't know, can't find a lot on it," Sam admitted as he frowned at the screen and started scrolling again. "They also have a couple of other legends that might be promising….myths about lizard men and ant people."

"_Ant people_? Do they just really _dig_ ants, or are they actually, you know… ant-people?"

"Apparently they're some sort of a hybrid. It says here that cave paintings depict them as having spindly bodies, large eyes, and bulbous heads that sometimes project antennae. Supposedly, they live in these huge underground mazes. UFO enthusiasts claim they're evidence of ancient aliens."

"That's ridiculous, Sam."

"I'm just telling you what the webpage says, dude."

"What webpage you lookin' at? It's not those _Ghostfacer_ douches again, is it?"

"Of course it is Dean, cause you know they're my go-to source." _Big brother could be a real ass at times_. Sam was ready to tell him to do his own damn research from now on.

"Here's something that might be a lead," Sam said, deciding to let his brother's smart mouth slide for now.

"Couple months back, two guys - Jake Dixon and Ian Kelly – decided to explore an unmapped cave less than a quarter mile east of where those kids disappeared. They never made it back."

"You thinkin' they woke up something nasty in there?"

"I don't know, it's possible," Sam shrugged. "Something to look into anyway."

"Well," Dean said, grabbing his duffel. "I think I've had about enough of this nerd party. We've got rock salt, consecrated iron rounds, and the knife. Those should cover almost anything we run into out there. The rest, we'll just salt-n-burn. Let's hit it. Daylight's wastin'."

"You're not gonna try to shoot a gun with your left hand are you?" Sam asked, grabbing his own bag and following Dean out of the door.

"Sure I am. I can shoot just fine with my left," his brother defended. "I've got mad skills."

"Yeah, whatever. Just make sure I'm out of the way before you go firing off with your mad skills."

XXXXXXXX

"Don't you think you should call Giles?"

"And ask him what exactly?" Buffy queried, keeping her eyes on the road.

Dawn shrugged and propped her bare feet up on the dash.

"Hey, watch that! You're gonna make my car smell like feet." Buffy warned.

Dawn ignored her sister, pressing forward with her concerns.

"We at least need an idea of what we're dealing with. _If we're even dealing with anything at all."_

"You _doubt_ the spidey sense? I'm disappointed in you, Dawnie."

"Whatever. Even if you're right, we have no clue what we could be walking into out there. It's too bad the Ranger Station was a bust," she added.

"Yeah, not even the Slayer could infiltrate that place. But, we did get to meet Diane Sawyer," her sister added happily.

"That was cool," Dawn agreed. "I hope I look that good when I'm 90. But, seriously, I'm worried about you. We really should have more to go on than what a few granolas in a sporting goods store told us."

"I'll be fine," Buffy replied. "Just gonna stake out the area, see if I can dig up any clues that point to something demony. Besides, _we_ shouldn't be going out there at all. I asked you to stay at the hotel."

"Like I'm gonna let you go out in the wilderness all by yourself."

"I think I can take care of myself, sis."

"Buffy! You got lost three times on the way here from Cleveland…on clearly marked highways."

"I wasn't lost. I was just taking the scenic route," Buffy pouted.

"Just keep tellin' yourself that. All I'm sayin' is that you're getting a Garmin for Christmas this year."

The sisters rode quietly for the next few minutes watching the scenery go by, lost in their own thoughts.

"Hey, Buffy," Dawn said, breaking the silence.

"Hmm?"

"Do you think he'll call?"

"Who, Sam? Sorry, Dawn, but I think he and his brother are headed out of town…to do _whatever _it is they do_."_

"I think I might've spazzed out on him a little," Dawn said with a frown.

"Maybe a little," her sister agreed gently.

"He's just so perfect," she swooned. "I can't even _think_ straight around him. Did you see his arms … and, and those shoulders?" she added, holding her hands out to indicate how broad they were.

"Definite eye candy," Buffy agreed, "but, I think he was a little old for you."

"Like you're one to talk!"

"And that always worked out so well for me, didn't it?" Her sister asked with a touch of bitterness.

Dawn folded her arms in front of her. "Well, I think I should get to decide for myself if I wanna have a disastrous relationship with an older man."

"Don't worry, Dawn. You'll be in college soon. I'm sure you'll be able to find plenty of hot prospects and disasters-in-the-waiting."

"Probably not _that_ hot. I could never get a guy like him."

"Don't sell yourself short, Dawn. We Summers women might not always be the smoothest operators, but we're damn cute. Smart, too. You'll find a good one. I'm convinced."

"Thanks, Buffy, sometimes you're not such a huge dork."

"Yay! Cool points for me," Buffy rejoiced.

"I wouldn't go that far," Dawn said, sticking her tongue out. "You know," she added, "I think Sam's brother definitely did have the hots for you."

"He probably has the hots for anything in a skirt," her sister replied.

"Oh, I don't know. He didn't seem too bad to me. He kinda suits you."

"How do you figure that?"

"He's old."

"What?"

"Yeah, I'd bet anything that he's _at least_ thirty."

"That old, huh?" Buffy teased. "Maybe you've solved the big mystery of how he really broke his arm. It was brittle bones brought on by advanced old-agedness."

XXXXXX

The Winchester's had found what they thought must have been the cave where the two cavers or spelunkers, according to Sam, had disappeared.

They entered cautiously, guns drawn. Sam carried a flashlight and Dean had a headlamp strapped to his forehead, it was something Sam had insisted on stopping for when he realized they were going to be poking around in the dark. Dean secretly agreed that it was a pretty good idea, but that didn't stop him from feeling like a giant dumbass in it.

So far, they hadn't seen any signs of supernatural phenomena. There was no odor of sulfur, no strange tracks to be found, and the EMF had been silent. Still, Dean was determined to be thorough.

They continued to inch slowly along the walls, Dean taking the lead while Sam watched his back.

"Hey, Dean," Sam said out of nowhere, his tone of voice making Dean suspect he was up to something.

"Yeah."

"I've been thinking. If we can get all this straightened out today… Maybe you can call Buffy and see if she wants to go out. I still have her sister's number."

He had to be kidding, Dean thought. _This._ Now? "You tryin' to set me up Sam?" he asked, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Kinda. You did seem to like her."

"She's a real nice girl," Dean agreed, "but I don't think she's the type to have a one night stand with some fly-by-night hunter. She's got her little sis to look after."

"That's not what I'm saying. I just think …"

If there was ever a right time to have your little brother give you relationship advice, Dean doubted this was it. Luckily, he had years of experience in deflecting.

"Oooh, I see what this is, Sammy," he interrupted. "You just want another chance to slice off a piece of your little teenage dream."

"Dude. No," Sam stated flatly. "She's cute, but she's just a kid. I'm not sure the girl's even eighteen yet."

Dean was silent for a moment, letting his brother think he'd dropped the subject.

"Ted Nugent!" he exclaimed suddenly.

"Wow… that was random."

"No, man," Dean insisted, "_Ted Nugent._ That's your answer. Back in the 70s he had it bad for this good lookin' jailbait chick. So, he talked her parents into letting him adopt her."

Sam's reaction proved he was properly horrified, which was the point, of course. Offending Sam was Dean's favorite hobby.

"That's disgusting! What the hell, Dean?"

"I'm just tryin' to give you some options here, Sam. I don't judge."

"My God, are you serious? Did that really happen? Because it's the most disturbing thing I've ever heard."

"Google it geek-boy," Dean answered not trying to hide the laughter in his voice. "Whoa, hold up," he said, coming to an abrupt stop. "I think we found Jake and Ian."

"Looks like," Sam agreed with a groan of disgust.

They were surveying a large pile of bones in a small chamber right off the main entrance to the cave. The majority of the bones looked like animals', but there were a couple of skulls mixed in that were decidedly human.

"I think these are kitchen scraps," Dean observed.

"Yuck… and whatever did this doesn't believe in being wasteful. There's not an ounce of flesh left on any of these," Sam pointed out.

"So, you think this might be our kinda gig now?"

"It's lookin' that way," Sam admitted. "I don't know of any natural predators in the area that would quite fit this pattern. These bones were definitely placed here on purpose."

"I just hope we're not too late," Dean replied soberly.

"Well, I don't see any _extra_ human bones in that pile. Definitely none that look like they might belong to a child. Maybe there's still a chance."

"Sure as hell better be. Either way, I'm gonna smoke these sick bastards," Dean bit out, his anger starting to rise. People couldn't even take a vacation anymore without having to worry about their kids being eaten.

"Hold on a second, man," his brother warned in a whisper. "I think I hear voices outside."

Both Winchesters immediately flattened themselves against the cavern walls and crept back toward the entrance as silently as the dirt and stone floor would allow. Sam craned his neck slightly to peer around the opening to the outside.

"Holy shit!" he exclaimed, still in a whisper.

"Five – O?"

"No, it's those girls. Buffy and Dawn."


	6. Chapter 6

Thanks to her extra-sensitive slayer hearing, Buffy had detected the sound of male voices in plenty of time to stash her scythe behind a large boulder. Her favorite weapon was one thing that could not easily be explained away, so better safe than sorry.

When she spotted the two men walking toward her, she had to blink a couple of times to make sure she wasn't seeing things.

It looked like her sister's crush and his horny brother. The very last people she expected to see. She heard Dawn utter a surprised _"Sam" _from beside her and decided this was either a group hallucination or they really were here.

Sam looked about as shocked as Buffy felt and Dean… well, he just looked pissed. He was also wearing a headlamp, which was both odd and amusing.

"I thought you said no camping," he snapped at her.

_What was his problem?_

"Nice to see you again too Dean," Buffy snapped back. "Love the headband by the way. Very early 80's _Flashdance_."

"Well?" he said expectantly, ignoring her jibe.

"Well, what? Do you see a tent? They call it a nature hike. Maybe you should look it up, because you seem a little confused."

She couldn't believe this man. How dare he accost her in a public place and demand to know her business.

"This isn't the place for civilians right now, sugar. You need to take little sis and turn back around before one of you gets hurt."

Did he just refer to them 'civilians'? And did he actually just call her 'sugar'?This conversation was just bizarre _and_ annoying. And now the guy was pulling out a badge. _What the hell was going on here?_

"Sorry for the confusion," Dean said, trying to reign in his irritation, and putting on a professional air. "Sam and I are Rangers and we've got reason to suspect that the kidnappers are close by. It's not safe for the two of you to be here."

Sam had pulled out a badge as well and stood tall and straight, nodding in serious agreement.

Dawn reached out and snatched the badges from their hands before they could put them away.

"Sam Roth and Dean Van Halen," she said, reading the names on the IDs with a smirk. "_Seriously?"_

"Yeah, what happened to the architecture business?" Buffy asked sarcastically. "Or are you the super-secret undercover type of park rangers? You can tell us - has the littering problem gotten out of hand?"

Dean grabbed the badges back from Dawn. This wasn't going as planned and he didn't have time to play around. It was time for an executive decision. He reached out his hand, placed it on Buffy's shoulder and spun her around, attempting to gently usher her back up the trail.

"That's it!" Buffy huffed before grabbing a handful of shirt collar in one hand, a belt loop in the other, and flipping him over her head.

Dean landed face-up with an "oompf", his pistol slamming painfully into his lower back.

"Where did your sister learn that?" Sam asked Dawn - his expression wide-eyed with disbelief.

"The Y," she answered absently, keeping her focus on the show in front of her.

The Slayer was now standing over Dean, hands on her hips.

"Who do you think you are?" she asked the rather surprised man lying on the ground. "My sister and I …"

_She was falling_.

She couldn't believe it. This guy had actually had the nerve to kick her legs out from under her.

"Oh crap!" exclaimed Dawn.

Sam immediately reached a hand out as if to stop the younger girl from interfering, addressing her gently.

"It's okay, Dawn. I promise he would never hurt your sister. We're just trying to protect you. It really is dangerous out here."

"_We_ don't need protecting, and you should be worried about him," she said pointing to Dean, "because he's just stepped in it. _Big time_."

Buffy found herself lying on her back with Dean straddling her hips, both of her wrists held above her head in his one good hand. Either she was getting rusty or he was unusually fast for a human. To make matters worse, the guy was wearing the most self-satisfied smirk she'd ever seen. He was so beyond dead.

"Dean," she said calmly. "I think you should let me up before I break your other arm. Severely and painfully," she emphasized slowly. "Think whole-body cast."

"Uh, Buffy?" Dawn interrupted.

"Dean! Dude!" Sam cried out in warning.

"We're not alone here," Dawn finished.

Dean let go of Buffy's wrists and sprung to his feet. What he saw walking toward them from the direction of the cave was definitely one of the most ridiculous looking creatures he'd ever faced.

He/she was fairly tall and vaguely humanoid, with a head that was way too big for its extremely skinny body. It also had huge, bulging black eyes, an ashen complexion, and long, stringy black hair. It wore what looked like a long tunic with decorative beadwork around the hem and neckline. This one definitely wasn't winning any beauty contests.

"You gotta be freakin' kidding me," he breathed.

Buffy, Dean noticed, had risen from the ground as well and, much to his amazement, was currently headed _toward_ the freak.

"Seriously?" she asked the thing, stopping in front of it. "This is evil's new spring line? Because – gotta be honest - you look like Russell Brand in a dress."

It reached out for her, grasping with long skinny fingers, but Buffy ducked before it could make contact, throwing an upper-cut punch to its jaw.

"Ow, that hurt!" she immediately exclaimed, rubbing her knuckles.

Despite the pain in Buffy's hand, it appeared that her punch had barely fazed the creature. She tried landing a solid kick squarely to its chest. But, to her amazement, it only stumbled back a few feet and then began advancing on her again.

The Winchesters both had their guns drawn, but neither could get a clear shot with Buffy in the way. Dean had to admire the girl's determination. She had certainly surprised him. But, she was obviously too small for her hits to make any difference to this creature.

"Buffy," Dean yelled. "Get out of the damn way!"

Buffy turned her head and was shocked to see both guys pointing guns in her direction.

The momentary distraction gave the monster an opening, which it used to slap her on the side of the head, sending her sprawling several feet away.

When the creature knocked the girl out of the way, Dean yelled for his brother to take the shot. Despite his previous claims, he really wasn't comfortable firing left-handed with the little blonde so close by.

Sam got off a perfect shot too, striking precisely where the thing's heart should be. However, it didn't go down. Instead, the bullet made an almost metallic pinging sound when it hit and then ricocheted backwards.

Dean was suddenly on his knees, hand clasped to his neck, blood seeping from between his fingers. The wound stung horribly, but he wasn't yet sure if was anything serious.

Sam bolted forward, his eyes wide with panic and disbelief.

"You shot me, Sam!" Dean barked incredulously.

"God, Dean! I'm sorry. Let me see," he demanded, squatting down and trying to pry Dean's fingers away.

"Chill out. It's just a graze," Dean insisted roughly, waving his brother off. He'd determined that the amount of bleeding couldn't indicate anything too severe. "Help her," he ordered, inclining his head toward Buffy, who was currently pinned underneath the creature and didn't appear like she would be getting free any time soon.

Sam reluctantly left his brother's side and circled behind the thing and attempted to sink Ruby's knife between its ribs. Unfortunately, he couldn't seem to break through. It was like trying to stab a marble statue.

By this point, Buffy was desperately pushing and struggling beneath the creature, trying to hold the thing's head away from her and, for good reason. It appeared to be straining to take a bite out of her.

"Poke it in the eyes, Buffy!" Dawn yelled out.

Dean had regained his feet, shaking off the burning pain where the bullet had grazed him. He was heading back to the fight when he heard Dawn's advice. _What the hell_, he shrugged. Can't hurt. Nothing else seemed to be working.

"Hey fugly!" he called out as he leaned in close to where Buffy and the creature struggled. "Why don't you try and bite me in the ass?"

The monster looked up from its prey, giving Dean a chance to viciously jab the first two fingers of his left hand into one of its eyes.

The creature screamed, making a high-pitched screeching noise and instinctively clasping both hands over the injured eye.

Buffy took the opportunity to slide out from under the thing and flipped back up onto her feet. Finally, she had a chance to retrieve the scythe.

She tore off as fast as she could run, hoping the thing didn't recover and kill Sam and Dean before she could make it back. Luckily, Dawn had stayed out of the main fray for once. As she quickly closed the half dozen yards to where she'd hidden her weapon, relief washed over her at the site of the scythe sitting there with its blade gleaming, just where she'd left it.

She twirled the scythe on her way back, comforted by the humming sound it made as it cut through the air.

_This better work_, she told herself, because the guys were having even less luck than she'd had with this monster.

Sam was now sitting spread-eagled about five feet away from the action. His nose was bleeding and he was looking more than a little dazed.

Dean was currently grappling with the thing and clearly on the losing end of the battle. Buffy also noticed that he'd managed to lose his sling somewhere along the way.

"Get down!" she yelled with authority, raising the scythe for a swing.

Dean immediately ducked and rolled clear at the sound of Buffy's voice, barely even thinking about his reaction before acting. He'd been well conditioned to respond quickly to combat orders over the years, especially from his dad, and this certainly sounded like one.

Not a second later, Sam found himself dodging a huge flying head.

"Thank God," Buffy breathed, panting a little as she held the bloody scythe out in front of her and away from her clothing. "I wasn't so sure that was gonna work."

Silence fell over the group for a moment, as no one seemed to know what to say next.

Dean walked over to his brother and gave him a hand up before turning his attention to the 90 pound girl who'd just slain the beast.

"What the hell?" he asked her. He wasn't sure where else to start.

"I'm pretty sure that was an ant person," his brother answered beside him. His voice was nasally and he was dabbing at his bleeding nose as he spoke. "It all makes sense. Ants are extremely strong and they have an exoskeleton. It's kinda like wearing armor."

"This makes _sense…"_ Dean began, turning on Sam incredulously.

"An ant person?" Buffy interrupted with disbelief. "What is it with bug people? If you were gonna be an evil monster wouldn't you pick something that at least _sounds_ scary? Like, I don't know … a great white shark person_."_

"Or a … saber toothed tiger man," her sister added helpfully.

"And I repeat - _what the hell?"_ Dean almost yelled the question this time.

Buffy stopped her bug-related rant and glanced at the guys uncertainly.

"Reeaallly sharp blade," she answered sheepishly.

"Just tell 'em Buffy," Dawn said, not giving her sister the chance to answer before adding casually, "She's the Slayer."

"She's the _huh_?" Dean exploded. "You know anything about this, Sam?"

"I've read a little about it," his brother replied, sounding a little unsure. "I assumed it was all just a legend. She's supposed to be like a superhero. A sort of boogeyman for demons."

"Of course. Right. Because a tiny-blonde-chick superhero named '_Buffy' _makes so much sense," Dean grumbled with exasperation, rubbing the bridge of his nose with dirty, blood stained fingers.

"Hey! Standing right here," Buffy put in defensively, "and I think _you guys_ have a little sharing of your own to do."

Sam glanced at Dean who just threw his hands up. Apparently he'd checked out of this conversation.

"We're hunters," Sam answered for the both of them.

"Like demon hunter hunters?" Buffy asked quizzically, wrinkling her nose. "Because I'm guessin' you two weren't expecting Bambi_._"

"And a few other things," Sam replied, a little humor seeping into his voice. "You ever run into any of us before?"

"A couple times," Buffy answered. It was clear from her tone that she wasn't exactly enthusiastic about the subject.

"Yeah," Sam laughed. "We're not always known to be the friendliest bunch."

"Male, chauvinist, and pig would be my words of choice," Buffy added dryly.

"Hey, you just saved our asses. I'm all about the girl power_,_" Sam said sincerely, giving the girl he was now convinced was the Slayer one of his patented boy-next-door smiles.

"Is show-n-tell time almost over?" Dean interrupted irritably. "Because there's at least two more of those freaks and four terrified little kids in that cave."

"He's right," Buffy agreed, disregarding the gruff attitude for the moment. "Time to get to work. You guys stay here and make sure Dawn's okay. I'll go in."

"_Whoa,"_ Dean said, holding a hand up. "Slow your roll there, Xena. You're not cuttin' me out of this."

Buffy turned to survey the man critically, lingering deliberately on his casted arm.

"And just what exactly do you plan on doing in there?" she asked.

"You don't have to worry about me, princess. Just try and keep up."

Buffy rolled her eyes dramatically.

"You're not bringing that gun," she said flatly. "I'm not getting shot today too."

"She's right, Dean," Sam agreed. "Our bullets don't penetrate and it'll be a lot harder to avoid the blowback when you're underground."

"Fine," Dean answered tightly, pulling out his pistol and handing it to his brother grip first.

"And the one in your bag," Buffy added knowingly.

Dean huffed, pulling the sawed-off from his duffel and surrendering it to Sam as well.

"Happy now?"

"Thrilled," Buffy answered drily. "I'm just hoping that wasn't your only line of defense. Because I don't have time to take care of you _and_ get those kids out."

"Oh, trust me, I've got other weapons," Dean smirked. "But it looks like you're forgetting something, sweetheart."

"Like what?" Buffy asked smugly.

"Like just how you plan on seein' in there? Or is night vision part of the superhero package?" Dean asked, matching her smug tone.

"Oh." Buffy mumbled with a blush. That explained the stupid headlamp.

"Dawn, did you bring me a flashlight?" she asked hopefully.

"Don't look at me," Dawn replied, crossing her arms. "I had no idea what we'd need out here. _Somebody_ wouldn't give me a chance to do any research. Besides, I told you to call Giles."

Sam barked a laugh. This scenario sounded awfully familiar.

"Looks like somebody won't do their homework," Dean prodded back at Buffy, clearly mistaking the direction of Sam's humor.

"Dude, you're so full of shit," Sam interrupted. "I had to practically beg you to let me look into this."

Sam then handed his own flashlight to the Slayer, ignoring the death-glare he was getting from his big brother.

"I'll stay here with Dawn," Sam stated. "Just in case another one heads this way. If you two aren't back in thirty minutes, I'm coming in after you."

Buffy noted that for once, her sister didn't have anything to say about being left behind. _Wonder why?_

"An hour," Dean corrected. "And if we don't come back, I want you to take Dawn and get her out of here. Then, you call Bobby and see if he can round up a few more hunters to come and help you clean these bitches out."

"Same goes for me, Buffy said," sounding as if she was in grudging agreement with the plan. "But, you better call Giles if things go bad," she told her sister. "This situation calls for a slayer."

Dean snorted, but amazingly didn't make a comment. He just turned told Sam to watch his back and then started hiking off.

Sam watched as the much shorter Buffy took long strides to catch up with his brother. It was clear that Dean was determined to act the badass and Sam decided he kind of hated to miss this show. As far as the older siblings plans went, he decided not to commit himself to either. He'd do what he felt was right when the time came. He always did, despite his brother's frequent orders to the contrary.

"Oh and Buffy," Sam called after the pair who had begun to head toward the entrance of the cave. "I know he's a pain in the ass, but try not to kill him in there."

"Screw you, Sam," his brother called back.

"I'll try my best," Buffy answered with a laugh. "But, no promises."


	7. Chapter 7

Sam had found a place for himself and Dawn to wait in an area where the canyon walls curved slightly overhead. The spot provided some shade from the late afternoon sun (which was beginning to get brutal). But, more importantly, it gave him something good and solid at his back with a clear view of the entrance to the cave.

"What are you doing?" Dawn asked Sam curiously, admiring the view of his backside.

"Laying a salt line," he replied. "Probably a waste of time, but it might help."

"Salt?"

"Yeah, it works really well for repelling spirits and most demons. I have a hunch it won't bother these things much, though."

"_Huh._ Neat trick."

"It's pretty much our old standby," Sam answered, taking his seat beside Dawn in the shade. "It's simple and best of all _cheap_. I'm guessin' your sister doesn't use that one."

"Nah. She just likes to chop things up, mostly."

"Whatever works. I still can't believe she's actually the Slayer."

"Let me guess, you thought she'd be taller?" Dawn asked with an eye roll.

Sam laughed. "Well, I didn't think she existed at all, but yeah she is kinda short."

"She gets that a lot. I think she has a Napoleon complex about it."

"I'll be sure not to mention it, then. Probably not a good idea to get on her bad side," Sam added half-jokingly. "Unfortunately, I don't see Dean exercising as much discretion."

"About your brother," Dawn continued cautiously. "No offense, but do you really think he can hold his own in there with Buffy?"

"He'll be okay," Sam replied with a knowing smile. "I know he doesn't have any super powers, unless you count being the world's most stubborn jackass, and he likes to run his mouth a lot… but when it hits the fan there's honestly no one better to have at your back. He'll do okay," he said confidently. "If your sister doesn't kill him, of course."

"Well, you seem to do pretty okay yourself," Dawn added a little shyly.

Sam looked down, slightly embarrassed. "That wasn't exactly my finest moment," he said, laughing lightly and pushing his hair out of his eyes.

"I don't know. I thought that shot you took was pretty cool. Well, you know until…"

"Until it almost killed my brother."

"Yeah, obviously. But that wasn't your fault," Dawn added quickly. "Those things must be _really _tough. I haven't seen Buffy have that much trouble in forever."

"Yeah, they're pretty tough," Sam agreed. "I just hope there are only two more left."

XXXXXXXXXXX

Buffy was relieved that Dean seemed to be on his best behavior. To her surprise, he'd refrained from making any further snide comments since entering the cave. In fact, he was being very professional.

She noted that he seemed hyper-aware of his surroundings, barely making a sound as they walked. The way he moved reminded her somewhat of Riley. This man definitely had the air of a soldier about him. Of course, he was much rougher around the edges than Riley had ever been. And while her ex had been a good soldier it was still, in the end, just a part of his identity. For Dean, it seemed more like something he _was_. He was deceptively casual in his demeanor, as if walking through a cave full of monsters was an everyday occurrence. That was something Buffy knew only came from years of experience.

They had moved past the relatively large space that was the cave's entrance and through a smaller chamber, where Buffy had been introduced to Jake and Ian. This only confirmed her suspicion that Mr. Ugly had been trying to make a snack out of her.

They had to squeeze sideways to get through the narrow opening on the other side of the chamber. Once they did, it was almost like entering another world.

The walls were straight and smooth, and cut into an almost perfect arch at the ceiling. Obviously not entirely the work of big hint were the torches that hung on either side of the wall every twenty feet or so. The walls were also decorated in elaborate carvings and glyphs, almost like you would imagine an Egyptian tomb to be.

"Looks like I didn't need a flashlight after all," Buffy said happily, trying to keep her voice as low as possible. Still, she couldn't resist throwing that back in her companion's face.

"Looks like," Dean agreed absently, obviously absorbed in taking in their new surroundings.

"Did we just walk into _Indiana Jones_?" he asked after a moment.

"Beats me," she answered. "But I'm gonna go ahead and vote 'no' on the giant pit of writhing snakes."

"Good call," Dean agreed with a grimace.

"What do you think these weirdos want with a bunch of kids anyway?" Buffy asked.

"Nothing good," Dean said flatly.

Buffy saw that the muscle in his jaw had tightened at the subject of the missing children. She noted that it gave him a rather hard and lethal appearance, and it made him twice as good looking (but she wasn't thinking about that). It seemed she'd discovered yet another new side to this man.

"No," she agreed. "Seems like these types never just wanna invite you to a pool party."

The pair walked quietly for the next few minutes, scoping out their surroundings, before coming to a stop at a three-way split in the path.

"Great," Buffy groaned. "Even if we do get to those kids in time, we'll never find our way back out of here. This place is like a maze."

"I've got it covered, doll," Dean said as he un-slung his duffel and reached in to produce a can of red spray paint. You never knew when you were going to need to draw a quick devil's trap, and it seemed that now he'd found another use for the paint. He shook the can and made a mark on the wall to indicate the way they'd come.

Buffy was just thrilled to see that Dean had regained her favorite self-satisfied expression. "Okay, so you're _Mr. Prepared_. Why don't you rub it in?"

"I am," Dean replied, his smirk turning into a boyish grin.

"You should watch it," Buffy warned. "I still owe you one, you know."

"How's that?"

"You kicked me into the dirt! In case you didn't notice, I'm wearing _white _shorts."

"Well, as I remember it, you had just tried to break my back," Dean countered defensively.

"_Well as I remember it_, YOU put your hands on MEfirst."

"Oh, I see what's going on," Dean said, regaining his grin. "Don't worry, I believe in keeping things even. Tell you what, you can put your hands on me right now… _Anywhere you want._" He accentuated the last with a suggestive raise of his eyebrows.

"Dream on."

"You can bet on it, sweetheart."

"Do you ever quit with the horny?" Buffy asked in exasperation.

"Not when you're around," he answered evenly, looking her steadily in the eyes.

Buffy glanced away quickly, her cheeks suddenly feeling a little hot. She didn't know whether she should be flattered or insulted at this point. Thank God there appeared to be a diversion up ahead in the form of another bug-freak.

"Looks like we've got contestant number two," the Slayer called out. Rushing forward before Dean had a chance to intervene. _This one's mine_, she thought, b_ecause I really need to hit something._

Dean hung back, taking in the sight of the fierce little blond in action. He'd jump in if she appeared to be having trouble, but for now he was enjoying the show. Which was damn hot_, _he decided.

Buffy jumped up and launched herself, feet first, toward the creature, knocking it off balance. She then executed her best impression of Dean's earlier takedown, by sweeping her leg behind its ankles. Holding the scythe sideways, she gave it a firm shove to the chest with the staff for good measure. This thing was going down, one way or another. She was determined.

And down it went, landing flat on its back.

Buffy immediately raised the scythe and struck downward, slicing off the top half of the creature's skull.

Dean had dropped his bag and was on the move, having spied another one in the passageway about ten feet ahead of where the Slayer was currently dispatching its buddy.

"Head's up!" he called as he rushed forward.

Buffy raised her gaze from the dead creature on the ground to see a very live one looming over her. She pulled up on her weapon, but it didn't budge. It appeared she had struck so hard that the blade was currently buried several inches into the dusty, stone floor. She pulled again, harder, a small seed of panic starting to form in her mind.

Dean flew past where she was kneeling and slammed his casted arm upward into the creature's nose as it bent toward Buffy, who was still trying to dislodge her weapon.

She heard an audible crack, which she hoped was the thing's nose and not Dean's arm. Either way, the blow had stunned the creature, knocking it onto its rear.

Dean then whipped out his bowie knife with his left hand, and knelt down, stabbing the thing deep into its eye socket.

An oily, black fluid squirted from the wound and it let out one long, piercing scream. Ruthlessly, Dean twisted the blade hard before pulling it out and waiting to be sure that the creature would fall over dead.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean bit out once he was assured the thing wasn't getting back up. He regained his feet somewhat unsteadily, hugging his right arm to his chest and spitting onto the ground. "_Son of a bitch!_" He repeated, even louder this time. "The ugly bastard squirted that nasty, black crap all over me! It's in my mouth," he spat with disgust.

Buffy stood up, finally freeing her scythe from the ground. She gave Dean a sympathetic frown before – God help her – dissolving into giggles.

Dean stared at the girl in astonishment. _What the hell?_ "I'm glad this is so entertaining for you," he barked, clearly annoyed.

"I'm sorry," Buffy said, trying and failing to reign in her laughter. "It's just… when you said… you had other weapons… I wasn't picturing a plaster cast."

She had barely managed to get the words out between giggles. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, trying to compose herself, but it was a hard battle. "Seriously," she added with another short giggle, "that was most definitely slay-of-the-week material. Best flat-out insanekill I've seen in a long time." Then she looked closely at Dean and sobered, crinkling her brow, and asking in a more serious tone, "Are you okay?"

Dean wasn't sure what to think for a moment. The new and exciting pain in his arm didn't lend itself so well to humor. But, Buffy was so adorable when she laughed and he was pretty sure he'd heard a snort in there somewhere. He decided he didn't think she was actually making fun of him. Not really.

"I'm just super," he answered a little gruffly.

"Are you sure?" Buffy asked with genuine concern, stepping forward to try and inspect his arm. "That had to have hurt. Broken bones are no joke. Believe me, I know all about it."

"I'll be fine," he said, softening up at her new tone but still shrugging off her concern. "But I don't think I'll be doing that again," he continued. "Next time, I'll just have to pull out my other _big_ weapon," he teased.

The glint was back in his eyes and that sort of worried Buffy. "What's that?" she asked, a little unsure she wanted to know.

"Blue Steel," Dean answered before shooting the most ridiculous pose she'd ever seen. No doubt, this was his best male model impression.

Buffy immediately fell into giggles again, holding her abdomen. She was mostly relieved he wasn't heading where she thought he was headed and surprised at how silly he was being. "Stop it," she gasped out. "I'm going to pee on myself and you're going to attract more of those things."

"I'm not the one laughing like a lunatic," Dean countered, grinning back at her. "Besides, hopefully we're fresh out of bug-uglies. The witness did say he only saw three."

"Way to go!" Buffy exclaimed, wiping a few lingering tears from her eyes. "Did you have to jinx us like that?"

"It's all good," Dean answered, his former swagger back in place. "We've just gotta find those kids in this funhouse maze… then it's all gravy."

"Famous last words," Buffy smirked.

XXXXXXXX

Sam and Dawn had spent the last twenty minutes or so, fairly comfortably chatting about random neutral subjects.

Dawn was proud that she'd, so far, managed to reign in her nerves and not spout off like some love-struck kid on a caffeine binge. She was feeling a little more confident now and decided to move the conversation into a little more interesting territory.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" she asked, trying to sound casual.

"No, no girlfriend," Sam answered, sounding a little unsure of where this conversation was headed.

"Do you like girls?" Dawn continued, trying to pry a little more out of him. "Cause, I mean it's cool if you, _you know…._"

"What? I'm not gay, if that's what you're asking," he answered with a shocked laugh. "Are you always this blunt?"

"Usually," she admitted. "I just don't see the point in beating around the bush about stuff. Life's too short. _Get to the point_, that's my motto."

Sam didn't know what to say, so he took a pull from his canteen, hoping she'd drop the subject.

"I'm not seeing anyone right now, either," Dawn said expectantly, hoping he'd get the hint, but she was immediately disappointed by the serious crinkle in Sam's brow.

"Dawn," he began earnestly. "You're a very pretty girl and I'm sure there are plenty of guys who'd love to go out with you, but…"

"But, what?" Dawn interrupted. "I'm too young? I am eighteen you know. I'm going to college in the fall."

"Trust me," he said, disregarding her protests. "You don't want to get mixed up with some older guy and his baggage. You should be thinking about enjoying life while you can, before you get a lot of adult responsibilities and things start to get complicated."

"_That's what I'm trying to do_," Dawn stressed in frustration, "but nobody seems to want to let me."

"Your sister doesn't let you out much, does she?" Sam asked knowingly.

"You have no idea what it's like to grow up with the Slayer as your sister… and your legal guardian," Dawn added, banging her fists on her knees.

"Maybe not," Sam agreed with a laugh. "But I think I know a thing or two about over-protective older siblings."

"I don't know. Dean seems like he'd be pretty cool to me," Dawn disagreed. "Not a psycho fun-killer like Buffy."

"Don't get me wrong, Dean was definitely the type to buy his underage brother a beer. But believe me, he has his own ways of making you crazy. For one thing, he freaks if he doesn't know where I am at every second."

"Still?''

"_Oh, yeah._ In fact, he's a little worse than usual these days."

"He does seem a little bossy," Dawn observed.

"More than a little," Sam confirmed with a grin.

"So what's the deal with him _these days_?" Dawn prompted.

"Uh… let's just say I've been away for a while… and now he's a little panicked about making sure that I'm okay."

"You were dead," Dawn stated flatly.

"What?" Sam asked with shock. "No… I mean, sorta," he stammered. "It's a long story. _How the hell did you know that?_"

"Believe me, I know the signs," Dawn answered, her tone thoroughly unimpressed. "Angst, drama, more angst. _What am I doing here? What does it all mean?_" she implored dramatically. "I'll tell you one thing, when I'm dead I plan on staying that way."

Sam broke into a full laugh. This little girl was a trip. "I'm not _that _bad," he defended with a smile.

"I've seen worse," she admitted, "but you still need to get over yourself."

"Thanks for the advice," Sam replied, shaking his head in disbelief. "So, what do you know about ants?" he then asked, looking for a less uncomfortable topic.

"Actually," Dawn said, looking like she'd been struck with inspiration. "I had an ant farm once."


	8. Chapter 8

The path narrowed significantly as the pair progressed through the cave. Eventually, it became more practical to walk single file.

Dean decided to let the Slayer assume the lead without argument. After all, she did have the magic axe. Besides, it wasn't like he couldn't see clearly over the top of her head to spot any threats that lay in front of them. The girl was a little on the short side.

He was pretty sure he'd re-broken his arm, not that it had been set long enough to do much healing. Still, the plaster on the cast itself had a pretty good crack in it after his latest stunt, so he doubted the thing was doing its job anymore, and since his sling had been broken before entering the cave, he had to hold the arm close to his chest to keep it from being jarred too badly as he moved. The view in front of him, however, did act as a welcome distraction from the pain.

Buffy definitely had a tight little ass and really nice golden, tanned legs. Aside from the obvious, he was also finding that he was enjoying just watching her. She had a bounce in her step he hadn't seen in the few female hunters he'd worked with. Like the men, those women had a hard edge to them. Life as a hunter seemed to pretty much have the same effect on both sexes, and it wasn't usually a good one. You either died young or grew into a cranky old alcoholic. Dean wasn't sure which was worse.

It wasn't that the Slayer didn't seem to take her job seriously. He'd witnessed her fighting, after all. But, she did have a refreshing lightness about her. He was fascinated with how her thick ponytail swung from side-to-side, and how she absentmindedly twirled that wicked-looking weapon as she walked. He found himself wanting to know more about this woman (not a common occurrence for him_)_.

Dean was drawn to her, he had to admit it. Not that he'd ever be able to have her in his life. Somehow, Buffy had managed to hold onto something he feared he'd lost long ago. He wasn't sure how she'd done it, but he did know that getting mixed up with a Winchester was a surefire way to put an end to it. Women were generally better off if they stayed as far away from the men in his family as possible. If they didn't burn on the ceiling, they were going to be hurt in some other way. He certainly hadn't been able to offer Lisa what she needed.

In any case, he knew feeling sorry for himself about his lot in life wasn't going to change anything. He decided to just enjoy the time he did have with Buffy. He doubted he would ever meet anyone like her again. Besides, it couldn't hurt to do a little flirting. It almost made him forget about all the pain for a moment.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

"Why would anyone build something like this?" Buffy asked in frustration. "It doesn't make any sense. Who needs a million tunnels that go nowhere? It's just not practical."

The pair had come around a corner and suddenly hit a dead end. It felt like they'd been going in circles for hours. Every hundred feet or so, there was another tunnel (or two) that they had to choose from. It was pretty much a toss-up as to which way they would go.

"Yeah," Dean agreed tiredly, "we're gonna run out of paint if this keeps up."

"Next time we're bringing a map," the Slayer huffed disappointedly.

Buffy was right, there didn't appear to be a lot of logic behind the creation of the small corner they'd found themselves in. It was pretty much a 5 foot by 3 foot hole in the wall. Dean reasoned that it was possible that this part of the tunnel was still under construction. But, then again, it was hard to pin rational motives on something that chose to live in a cave and looked like these things did.

Buffy was still grumbling to herself, clearly aggravated. Finally, she kicked the wall irritably with the tip of her shoe and spun around toward the way they'd come, colliding with Dean's right side. He sucked in his breath sharply at the jolt, causing Buffy to apologize profusely.

"I'm _so_ sorry," she cringed, biting her lip in sympathy. "There's nowhere to move in here."

"I'm cool," Dean said, sounding rather unconvincing even to his own ears as he attempted to shrug off the pain. "But, we probably should get outta this hole before we get any visitors."

Buffy nodded and stepped around the corner, only to stop dead in her tracks. "You really jinxed us this time," she groaned.

"How many?"

"Two and they're _really_ close. That's not a good thing, because I can't fight in this corner. There's no room to maneuver. I'll end up cutting off my own head… or yours_._"

Dean stepped around the corner and grabbed the nearest torch from the wall.

"I'll try and back 'em off a little. Get you a little space."

"Okay, but don't go all macho kamikaze on me," Buffy warned. "I'm not getting stuck down here by myself in all these tunnels. I'll be old and gray before I find my way out."

"Just watch and learn," Dean said, throwing Buffy a wink before starting forward.

"Hey!" He called out, grabbing the creature's attention. "Which one of you geniuses hired the contractor that built this nuthouse? Personally, I think you should fire their ass. Or… I could just fire yours."

Dean thrust the torch toward the creatures, causing them both to take a couple of steps backward.

Buffy stood back, shaking her head, and watching in amusement. This guy may not have any special powers, but he was certainly brave enough _and crazy enough_ to make up for it. She had to admit, he was starting to grow on her.

"Keep movin'," Dean warned, waving the torch in front of him menacingly. "You'll be really disappointed if I have to set your cute little skirts on fire."

Dean managed to back them up a few feet, past another split in the tunnel. Having gained a little space, Buffy began to move forward when she spotted a third monster closing in behind Dean from the adjoining pathway. This one appeared to be carrying a large rock.

"Behind you!" Buffy warned with a shout, breaking into a run.

Dean started to turn his head, but it was too late. The creature brought the rock down forcefully on the top of his head before he even had a chance to react.

"Dean!" Buffy yelled, but he didn't respond to her. He just crumpled forward, the torch falling uselessly to the ground.

The Slayer suddenly found herself vastly outnumbered as all three turned their attention to her. She was determined not to let them back her into the small corner, so she rushed toward them holding the stake end of the scythe before her. She ran the stake through the abdomen of the first creature she came to. Unfortunately, the remaining two didn't appear to be concerned with stopping to check on the welfare of their friend. They simply pushed past him and continued steadily forward.

Buffy quickly pulled the stake from the fallen creature and attempted to raise the blade for a swing. The one that was closest blocked her strike, by grabbing onto the scythe before she could bring it down, and slamming its knee into her stomach. She lost her grip on the weapon and stumbled backward, gasping for breath.

It seemed she was going to be fighting in the cramped space after all.

The pair advanced on her steadily, neither showing any emotion or seeming to be in a hurry. Buffy let loose with a flurry of kicks and punches, desperately trying to hit anything she could make contact with. Her strikes were having little effect on their armored bodies, however, and the momentum behind her punches was shrinking as they crowded her against the stone wall.

She felt a pair of cold hands closing around her throat and attempted, unsuccessfully, to claw them away. The world around her began to become smaller as her body clamored for oxygen. Soon, she could see no more than a pinprick of light from the nearest torch and then that too was gone.

XXXXXXXXXX

"I'm going in," Sam announced, flipping his phone shut after checking the time again. "Start heading back to your car," he told Dawn. "If you leave now, you can make it back well before it starts to get dark out here."

"Are you joking?" she asked in disbelief.

"You'll be safer. I'm sure those things are occupied right now with whatever's going on in there. But the faster and further you can get away from here, the better. You need to trust me on this."

"If you're going in, I'm going in," Dawn said flatly, shaking her head and planting her hands firmly on her hips.

"Dawn," Sam pleaded. "Be reasonable. I can't protect you in there."

"I'm not completely helpless, you know. Besides, it's not just your brother who's stuck in that cave. Buffy may be the big-bad Slayer, but she's still my sister and I'm not leaving here without her."

Dawn was going to stand her ground on this one. It was clear to Sam that he would have to physically stop her from going with him and she didn't plan on making it easy. He was afraid he might accidentally hurt her if she fought him too hard and he had the feeling she would tear into him with everything she had.

Sam pushed his hair back out of his eyes and looked to the sky for inspiration he knew wasn't up there. How the hell was he supposed to keep both of them alive in that cave long enough to find Dean and Buffy? And even if he did manage to pull that miracle off, he was pretty sure the Slayer would end up killing him anyway for bringing her little sister along.

"Dawn…" Sam began, trying to use his most reasonable voice, the one he usually saved for freaked-out witnesses or one of Dean's stubborn, crazy episodes.

"Don't waste your breath," she interrupted. "I can't be reasoned with."

"I'm beginning to see that."

"Relax, if we run into one of those things we'll just stab 'em between the segments of their exoskeleton. I had an ant farm, remember? We got this figured out now. I'm sure you've got a knife in that bag you can loan me, too."

"We don't even know if that's going to work," Sam stressed. "I'd really feel a whole lot better about this if you didn't go in."

"We'll, never know if we don't try. And I'm going in, so you might as well drop it."

Sam let out a frustrated breath and tried to stare Dawn down, which was another waste of time. She was convinced they knew what they were doing. Sam only wished he was half as sure.

The pair had come up with a few theories while discussing Dawn's experiences with her ant farm. One had to do with the fact that ants have segmented bodies. The segments are necessary due to the exoskeleton, because while it acts as a very effective barrier to injury, it's not flexible. In order for an ant to actually be able to move, it needs to have 'breaks in the armor' so to speak. Those breaks occur at the joints and anywhere else, as Dawn put it, they need to "get bendy".

The theory was that they were vulnerable in these spots. The problem was that it was just a theory. One that Sam did not wish to test while he was responsible for the safety of the Slayer's little sister. Unfortunately, it didn't seem like he had much choice if he wanted to get to his brother before it was too late.

He was refusing to even consider that it might _already_ be too late. So, it looked like they were both going in.

XXXXXXXXXX

"This isn't working," Sam ground out in frustration as he scraped his forehead on yet another low-hanging stalactite he failed to see. "We're going to have to go back to the Impala first. I know there's at least one more flashlight in the trunk."

At least one spare, Sam remembered, was in Dean's bag, which was doing them a whole hell-of-a-lot of good right now.

The two had managed to make it past the main entrance to the cave, which had allowed for some lingering sunlight. Now they were entering the small chamber that Sam and his brother had been in earlier and it was pitch-black dark. They were trying to use their cell phone displays to light the way, but it was far from an ideal situation. It was, in fact, the stupidest situation Sam had been in recently and he tended to have no shortage of stupid situations.

"Dammit!" he cursed, stumbling backwards, after hitting his head again.

"Ow!" Dawn squealed. "Watch where you put those huge clown-feet of yours," she growled as she smacked Sam on the back of the head. "I think you broke my big toe."

Sam felt a little guilty, but didn't bother apologizing for stepping on Dawn's foot. It wasn't like he could actually see where he was going. Plus, there was something way too familiar about her tone and it was starting to get under his skin.

"This is the most damn ridiculous situation I've ever…" he trailed off, gritting his teeth in frustration before deciding to just let it blow and damn trying to be quiet. "Why the hell are we having so much trouble today over a few frickin' flashlights? From now on, I'm taking _at least two_ EVERYWHERE I GO!"

After a brief silence, Dawn asked, "Are you done having your little moment now? Because you can go back and get flashlights if you want, but I'm going to keep going."

"You're _completely_ insane! Did you know that?" Sam was rapidly reaching his breaking point with this girl.

Dawn pushed past him, disregarding his accusations. She'd long ago decided that you had to be a little insane to grow up in Sunnydale and survive. Sam was just being too up-tight if you asked her. Still cute, but way too uptight. "Cool!" she exclaimed, after squeezing past Sam and through the chamber's exit. "Come look. It's like _Indiana Jones_ in here."


	9. Chapter 9

Distantly, Buffy wondered why she seemed to be sleeping on a dirty floor. She also wondered why she didn't have a blanket, because it was a little chilly. Something definitely wasn't right here, but she was having a hard time getting her mind to cooperate. Then it came to her.

_ANTS_! Stupid, stupid ants. Apparently, they could ruin more than your picnic.

She forced her eyes open and sat up to survey her surroundings. It appeared she was in a room of sort, it even had a door. Aclosed one, of course, and she was betting she wouldn't be able to simply open it and stroll on out. Then she spotted Dean lying about ten feet away. That sight brought her awareness sharply back into focus. She suddenly remembered the sight of him receiving a bad blow to the head. She had to make sure he was okay.

"Dean," Buffy attempted to call out - finding that her voice sounded a lot like a frog's. Her throat was sore and most definitely swollen. _Stupid, stupid ants._ "Dean," she called again, a little stronger this time.

There was no response. A feeling of dread began to form in the pit of her stomach. She quickly gained her footing and hurried to kneel at his side. Reaching out a tentative hand, she placed two fingers against his neck. To her great relief, she felt a steady pulse beneath them.

Once she'd assured herself that Dean was alive, Buffy sat back on her heels and attempted to appraise the damage. There was a thick trail of blood leading from his hairline, down across his right eyelid. She leaned forward, trying to see the spot where the rock struck, but his hair was so sticky with dried blood that she couldn't quite make out the wound.

It wasn't an appropriate time for this line of thinking, but she couldn't help noticing that, despite his injuries, he was still very handsome. Dean's features were unguarded and much softer, making him appear younger, almost innocent. Unconsciously, she reached a hand out and traced the line of his jaw.

_God Buffy, you are such a perv! _She scolded herself internally, pulling her hand away. She should be helping him, not trying to molest his unconscious body. What was wrong with her? The lack of oxygen from being strangled must have scrambled her brain.

She returned to her assessment, determined to keep it professional. This time she checked out his arm. She cursed lightly when she saw the giant crack in the cast. The big macho jerk! That's why he wouldn't let her look at it earlier.

She noticed that Dean's canteen still hung around his neck, so she unhooked it from its strap. She allowed herself a small drink_, _which felt incredibly good on her injured throat. She then took off the light, short-sleeve blouse she'd been wearing over her tank. After pouring some water on the shirt, she used it to gently dab at the blood on his forehead.

"No fair," Buffy's patient muttered weakly, startling her.

"You're awake," she sighed in relief.

"No fair," he repeated, his mouth forming into a small smile. "I wanted to be awake when you decided to put your hands on me."

"Well it sounds like your brain's intact, the libido part of it anyway," Buffy scolded gently.

"You okay?" He asked sincerely, his voice weak.

"I'll be fine. I think I'm the one that should be asking you that question."

"I'm good," Dean said, obviously lying. "What did they hit me with, anyway?"

"I'm pretty sure it was a giant boulder," Buffy answered with a sympathetic frown.

"Awesome… sounds about right. Guess they got you too?"

"Nope, no boulders for me. I believe I was the lucky one. They decided to just choke me into unconsciousness, which is why I sound like I've been smoking for forty years."

"Bastards!" Dean said, attempting to rise.

"Hold on there John Wayne," Buffy ordered, holding a hand to his chest to keep him down. "Close your eyes and let me get the blood off your eye first. You'll need to be able to see if you're gonna reap some vengeance."

Dean lay back without protest, submitting to the Slayer's attempt at first aide. His stomach had rolled ominously when he'd attempted to sit up so quickly, so he decided that – just this once – his dignity may be better served by cooperating.

"There," Buffy said, dropping the shirt. "Do you think you can sit up now?"

"I'm not an invalid," Dean grumbled, attempting to rise, yet much more slowly this time.

"Just humor me, alright?"

Buffy placed her hand under his elbow and helped to ease him into a sitting position against the nearest wall.

Once in place, Dean leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. He breathed in slowly, attempting to will away the wave of nausea he was feeling. There would be no puking. Not today. He'd die first.

After a minute, he felt he finally had his nausea somewhat under control. He opened his eyes just in time to see the very interesting site of the Slayer removing the scarf that was threaded through the belt loops on her shorts.

Buffy caught Dean's hopeful leer and decided she better head off his line of thinking. "Don't get too excited," she told him. "This is your new sling."

"What?" Dean moaned. "I'm not wearing that. It's pink!"

"It's _fuchsia_ actually… and don't be such a baby. I'm sure it'll be completely covered in manly blood and sweat in about five minutes. You won't even recognize it. Besides, I'm the one suffering here. This scarf pulled my entire outfit together."

"Yeah, well whatever," Dean grumbled. "I don't care what you say. I'm not wearin' the matching nail polish."

"Deal," Buffy agreed cheerily. "Now, lean forward a little so I can get this behind your back."

Dean allowed Buffy to tie his arm up in the homemade sling. She was actually pretty good at it. He guessed it shouldn't come as a surprise that she had some experience with field medicine. She was really gentle too. If all the nurses were like her, he might start seeking medical care more often.

"Yay!" Buffy exclaimed, sitting back to examine her work. "That's my best sling yet."

"It's beautiful," Dean agreed sarcastically. "Too bad it clashes with my boots."

Buffy didn't take Dean's attitude personally. She knew his masculine pride was taking a pretty good hit right now_. _Not that it should be. Some men could be so silly. Dean had suffered some pretty serious injuries today and dealt with them better than most people would. Obviously, he was one of those that always had to play the tough-guy.

After a minute or two of just sitting, trying to allow his head to clear, Dean hauled himself to his feet, using the wall behind him for support. He stood still for a moment, waiting for the spinning room to slow.

"Guess we should test that door out."

"Yeah," Buffy agreed. "Might as well get it over with. I'm sure you're aware that it's most likely bolted from the outside."

"Course it is," he agreed readily. "So, why do you think they bothered locking us up in here anyway?"

"I have a bad feeling that this is the pantry," Buffy replied with a groan.

"And we're the midnight snack," Dean added.

"Yep. Looks like they invited us to dinner."

XXXXXXXXXXXX

The door, as it turned out, was most definitely bolted from the outside. In fact, Buffy wouldn't be surprised if it was actually welded shut out there and had an elephant wedged against it. She had kicked and punched it with everything she had and it wasn't moving even a tiny bit.

Dean had examined the sides, looking for a way to disassemble it from the stone frame, but apparently any hardware was located on the outside. They were stuck. No way was that door coming open without some outside help.

"Damn!" Buffy said kicking the door again in frustration. "I guess we just have to wait for those things to get hungry."

"Sam will find us," Dean said confidently. "He never listens to anything I say. He's probably on his way right now. I just hope he doesn't meet up with any of those freaks before he gets here."

Dean immediately recognized Buffy's stricken expression and attempted to ease her mind. "Don't worry, he's not stupid. He wouldn't bring Dawn in here."

"You don't know my sister very well," Buffy sighed. "If Sam's on his way then I can _guarantee you_ she's with him. She's trying to make 'being stubborn' into a new Olympic sport. I should've made her stay at the hotel. If she makes it here okay, I swear… I'm going to kill her!"

"I have an idea," Dean said, sounding a little reluctant. "Just don't freak over what's hopefully about to happen here. I'm gonna call somebody that can help us get out and he can also make sure that Sam and Dawn are safe."

Buffy gave Dean her best deer-in-the-headlights look. She knew there was no cell reception underground, so he must be talking about making a different type of call.

"Cas… Castiel," Dean began, looking upward. "It's Dean. I could use a little help right now. So, if you're listening, I'd appreciate it if you'd get your ass down here… Uh, _please._"

Dean paused and looked around for a few moments as if he was expecting to see someone other than Buffy in the room with him. Then, he balled his fist in frustration and shouted at the ceiling of the cave.

"Cas! I mean it man! Where the hell are you? Kinda got myself in a pretty nasty bind here."

Dean paused again, looking around the room. After a minute or so, he appeared to give up on looking for whoever it was he'd been expecting. He then began pacing the room and cursing. Buffy was pretty sure he knew a few phrases that she hadn't heard before and she was also pretty sure that she didn't want to know what those phrases meant. He and Spike should really get together sometime and trade notes. She decided to allow him to get his tirade out of his system before speaking.

"Who is Cas?" she finally asked, more than a little bewildered.

"Just a guy I know," Dean sighed. "He has this annoying habit of appearing out of thin air. But apparently, that's only when you don't need his help."

No way was Dean telling Buffy that he'd just prayed to his 'guardian angel'.He was already wearing a pink, silk scarf for God's sake! However, he was a little worried about what could be keeping Cas. but that problem would just have to wait its turn. His plate was already full.

Buffy just shook her head. It wasn't like she was a stranger to the bizarre. Whoever this Cas person was, it didn't seem to matter, because they were still trapped.

Dean sat back down against the stone wall and buried his face in his hand, rubbing his temples.

"I'm sorry Buffy," he said in a thick voice. "I'm really sorry. I'd never want anything bad to happen to your sister. If I hadn't…"

"If you hadn't what?" Buffy asked. "What are you trying to say here? That all of this is somehow your fault?"

"It is," Dean stated, as if it were a simple matter of fact. "I should've made Sam take Dawn back to your hotel before we even came in here. Hell, I should have taken care of this whole mess before you two even got here, instead of dickin' around in the motel room for half the day."

"That's bullshit," Buffy snapped irritably.

Dean looked up, shocked by her tone and the language. She didn't seem to curse much. Nowhere near as much as he did anyway.

"I'm going to overlook the fact that you just implied this is a man's job. That I'd be better off just standing back and letting big, tough Dean Winchester save us all. After all, I shouldn't have to get my pretty little hands dirty."

"I wasn't saying that," Dean defended.

"I'm not done," Buffy interrupted. "So, listen up. You don't control me, or Dawn, or apparently, Sam. This whole 'weight of the world' thing, it's not a good look for you. I've been there and believe me, catatonic states are not all they're cracked up to be. Whatever happens is going to happen, there's not a whole lot that you can do to change it. All any of us can do is our best."

Dean stared at Buffy for a moment. She was seriously a little pissed at him right now… and she probably had some valid points. But, he wasn't about to have a chick flick moment and start crying on her shoulder.

"Nice little speech there," he said. "But for some reason, I'm thinkin' you don't always follow your own advice."

"You're an ass," Buffy replied defensively.

"Sure am," Dean agreed, giving her his best smirk.

"Okay," she said, giving in a little. "Maybe I do have my own issues. I never said I didn't, but at least I try to work on them. For example, in the Fall, when Dawn goes off to college… I plan on giving her free reign."

"Oh, really?"

Buffy couldn't help but crack a grin. Dean was infuriating with his smirk, but something about him also got to her.

"Okay," she relented, "but I'm only going to do minimal stalking. _Very_ minimal. Almost non-existent. She'll never know a thing."

Dean was giving her a full wattage smart-ass grin now.

"Don't make fun of me," Buffy warned, trying to stop smiling. "This is serious stuff. You can't go around thinking everything that goes wrong is your personal responsibility. You'll go crazy! You just have to accept that you're not always responsible for everybody and everything. Did you know that last year there was an entire apocalypse, and for once I didn't have to do anything to stop it? _And the world's still here._ I try to stop and think about that whenever I start getting all broody."

"Yeah, I heard somethin' about that," Dean said, losing his grin.

"Really?" Buffy asked curiously, trying to read his expression. "Do you know what the deal was with all that?"

"Just a bunch of dickless douche-bags," he said tiredly. "It doesn't matter. I refused to play my part in it. The compensation package was jacked._"_

"Know the feeling," Buffy said, rolling her eyes. "Personally, I'm pushing to get paid on a sliding-scale with an extra special bonus for anything apocalypty."

"You can sign me up for that plan, sister," Dean replied enthusiastically.

Dean was smiling again, some of the hard lines disappearing from his face. It was obvious he was relieved for the change in topic. Buffy wasn't dumb, she'd deliberately let him off the hook. The man obviously knew _way _more than his extremely brief (and colorful) summary would indicate. But, she recognized the pained expression and she certainly wasn't going to push him to talk about it, no matter how curious she was. The last apocalypse might have been a cake walk for her, but apparently he didn't share the same experience.

"Did you notice that it gets kind of cold in here when you're not running for your life?" Buffy asked, hugging her bare arms. It was true, but she was also trying to change the subject.

Dean, who was still sitting propped against the wall, raised his left arm up invitingly. "My best behavior. Scout's honor."

"You're no boy scout," she accused.

"No, but I met one once," he replied with a wink. "Seriously, I'm not in the mood for another broken arm today. Besides, I'm sure these clowns would appreciate a nice, warm meal."

"Well, I wouldn't want to disappoint them," Buffy said, finally relenting. She sat down beside Dean, a bit awkwardly, and allowed him wrap his arm around her shoulders. She immediately noted that his skin was a little too cold and clammy and decided he may need the warmth more than she did.

"So…" Buffy started, searching for something to say. "How did you and Sam decide to get into the lucrative business of killing demons?"

"Family business," he answered simply.

"You should really write a book," Buffy replied sarcastically.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're just so descriptive. You really know how to make a story come alive."

"So, you tell me something interesting then. What was it like growing up on Krypton?"

"Funny guy," Buffy said dryly. "I grew up in California. I was born in L.A. actually."

"Same difference".

"I knew you were gonna say that."

Buffy paused for a moment, considering what she was going to say next.

"Dean… you don't think… I mean… Do you think Sam and Dawn might have gotten a little _too friendly_ when we left them out there today?"

"Like what we're doing now?" Dean teased.

"I'm serious," Buffy continued. "Dawn thinks she's ready for a lot of things, but I'm not so sure. She just graduated from high school and I worry about her getting in over her head."

"You don't need to worry," Dean advised her sincerely. "_This_ Sam would never take advantage of your kid sister. They probably just braided each other's hair… and tried to decide which Jonas brother is the cutest."

"Do you always give Sam such a hard time?" Buffy asked with a giggle. "I hope you've noticed that your little brother isn't exactly _little_."

"He thrives on it," Dean assured her. "Keeps him on his toes. Besides, I can take him."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that. He might just crack one day. It'd be something to watch, though. You could probably sell tickets."

"Yeah, right," Dean snorted.

Buffy relaxed a little, snuggling into Dean's side. It was nice to have some warmth… and comfort, too. For some reason it made her feel secure to have his arm around her. It wasn't just because it was heavy and firm. Not that those things weren't a bonus. There was just something about his presence that made her feel safe. She knew he had her back and, in her crazy life, that was a valuable commodity.

It was hard to believe that a few hours earlier they'd been telling each other outrageous lies and acting like tourists. Now they were huddled together in a cave - both of them desperately needing a shower – waiting to be eaten by some mutant ants. Only in her life would something like this happen.

Buffy stopped her musings when she noticed her companion was being a little too quiet. She hoped he hadn't fallen asleep. She was pretty sure you were supposed to stay awake after receiving a head injury.

"Hey, Dean," she said, trying to gain his attention. "_Dean_," she said a little louder, squeezing his hand.

"Hmm?"

"You're not sleeping, are you? Because that's not a good idea."

"Not sleepin'," he answered drowsily. "Passin' out… it's different."

"Well you can't be doing either. You have to stay awake!" she ordered, pinching his arm.

"Okay, I'm awake," Dean grumbled, opening his eyes. "I've never understood why you can't sleep after a head injury, anyway."

"I don't know," Buffy admitted. "But it's on all the TV shows. And Dr. House is never wrong."

"Well, I'm convinced," Dean replied dryly.

"Tell me a story," Buffy prompted. "Something that requires more than one sentence."

"What do you want to know?"

"I don't know… I told you where I'm from. Why don't you tell me about where you grew up?"

"In the Impala, mostly. That and a lot of crap motels."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, it's a travelin' gig."

"Even when you were a little kid? Your parents just drug you all over the country?"

"Our dad did… Mom died when Sam was a baby."

"I'm sorry," Buffy said sincerely, feeling bad for even asking. "I really didn't mean to pry. I was just trying to keep you awake."

"It's okay," Dean assured her. "It was a really long time ago."

"But still," Buffy said, "my mom died four years ago and sometimes it seems like it happened just yesterday."

"Your mom too, huh?" Dean asked sadly. "Did something bad get to her?"

"No, it was a brain aneurism of all things. Totally natural, nothing I could do about it. It was kinda like fate was laughing at me."

"Know the feeling," Dean assured her. "Fate's a cruel bitch. Maybe I should try and hunt her down."

"I'll help," Buffy offered. "I think we… Wait a minute," she said trailing off. "Do you hear something?"

"No," Dean answered as he cocked his head to listen.

"Give it a minute, something's definitely headed this way."

"Dinner time?"

"Let's hope not."


	10. Chapter 10

They took their positions on either side of the door. Dean pulled his Bowie knife, luckily the ants hadn't been smart enough to give him a pat down and Buffy was clutching a large rock. If nothing else, she figured she could get some payback for Dean.

They held their breath, muscles tensed, as they listened to the distinct sound of a lock being rattled. After a few moments the door began to swing slowly inward. The Slayer raised the stone over her head and prepared to bash in the head of the first creature that dared enter, but lowered her arms with a sigh of relief when she saw a rather beat-up looking Sam standing in the doorway… and Dawn smiling happily behind him like she didn't have a care in the world.

"Dawn! Thank God you're okay," Buffy breathed, "because I'm going to murder you."

"Yeah right, you couldn't live without me," Dawn said smugly, giving her sister a hug.

"Sammy?" Dean questioned from behind the door, sounding hopeful.

"I'm here, Dean." His brother answered stepping through the doorway. "Are you alright? I found this," Sam said, holding up Dean's duffel.

"I'm great," Dean said, smiling, "but you look like ass dude. Guess you had a little run-in with our freaky new friends, too. How'd you manage to squeak out of that?"

Sam was looking a little rough around the edges. Aside from the swollen and most likely broken nose from earlier, he was also sporting a black eye and a large cut across his cheek. Dawn, on the other hand, didn't have a scratch on her. She was the only one of the group who had managed to remain perfectly groomed.

"Yeah, we ran into one. Got him right here," Sam answered, pointing to the base of his throat. "Turns out, if you can get a blade between the plates in their exoskeleton, they aren't so invincible after all."

"Look at the college boy," Dean said proudly.

"It was Dawn's idea, actually. The girl knows her ants."

"Oh no," Buffy groaned, joining the conversation. "I completely forgot about Dawn's cursed seventh-grade science fair project."

"It was a perfect project until _somebody_ knocked over my ant farm. I got a C on that Buffy – a C**! **Thanks to you. And that was only because Ms. Mayes felt sorry for me. It's kind of hard to have a project on ants when you have no ants."

"Would it get me off the hook if I told you that Spike broke your ant farm?"

"Spike! Why was he even in my room?"

"It was when he first got chipped. You and Mom went to some gallery thing for the weekend and Giles needed a break from babysitting, so I kinda brought him to the house. _It was a really bad idea_" Buffy added, hoping it would make her appear less guilty.

"That still doesn't tell me what he was doing in my room."

"Being Spike. He was snooping around everywhere. I caught him in my underwear drawer and I think he read your diary."

"What! Why didn't you tell me about this? I'm so going to kick his ass. Just wait."

"Be my guest," Buffy sighed. "He'll probably even give you a free shot. He always did have a soft spot for you."

"Oh, it's going to happen," Dawn promised. "Just as soon as we get ourselves out of this mess, it's the first thing on my list. I still owe him one anyway. For the "by the way, I'm not dead" phone call that he _didn't_ make."

"I'm sorry, Dawnie. If it helps, I did beat him up for costing you that A."

Dean was completely confused by the entire conversation. Apparently Buffy liked to spend her weekends babysitting perverts. Nosy perverts. He was a little jealous to be honest.

"Are we about done with the middle school geek-trauma?" he interrupted gruffly. He was irritated with himself for getting jealous over a conversation that made no freaking sense. "We need to be working on a plan to get ourselves out of here."

"Well," Buffy answered cheerfully, "I'm thinking we kill a few monsters, save the kids, and then _tacos_. I'm in the mood for Mexican. After we take you to the hospital of course," she added more seriously.

"Please, I don't need a hospital. I've got half-a-bottle of pain killers plus a refill. A couple of those and some cerveza. Trust me, I'll be one happy camper."

"Dean," Sam said, joining in on Buffy's side. "I really think you should get that head wound checked out. It looks like you've lost a lot of blood."

"It's not just his head," Buffy added. "He broke his arm again, too."

"Narc!" Dean scolded the Slayer, who did not appear to be ashamed.

"Obviously you're too bull headed to help yourself. So, I'm counting on your brother to have a little sense."

"Fat chance," Dean grumbled.

"How the hell did you even manage to do that?" Sam asked, brushing off the insult.

"It was actually kind of cool," Buffy replied, answering for him. "Best overall use of an improvised weapon this season. He definitely won the slay-of-the-week award_._ I'm not accepting any other applications."

"No way!" Dawn exclaimed, looking impressed. "I can't wait to see him in the tiara."

"I left it in Cleveland," Buffy frowned.

The Winchesters exchanged baffled glances. Sometimes it was impossible to understand what these girls were even talking about.

"Let me see it," Sam said, reaching to examine Dean's arm.

"Get off me, Sam," Dean ordered gruffly, pulling away.

"Fine. But you are going to the hospital. By the way," Sam added smiling, "I love that scarf on you. It brings out your eyes." He couldn't resist at least one dig. If positions were reversed, he knew Dean would show him no mercy.

"Bite me."

"That's enough children," Dawn interrupted, giving Dean a nasty look for his little _geek-trauma_ comment. "Sam," she said, turning toward her favorite Winchester, "don't you think we should fill them in on your theory?"

"Sure. But, it might sound a little crazy," he warned the group.

"With the way this day is going," Buffy assured him, "I doubt you can say anything that sounds crazy to me. The bar is set pretty high."

"Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you," he replied. "Dawn was telling me about her ant farm and it got me to thinking about why the ant people would want young children and, if I'm right, there's a good chance that those kids are okay."

"Sounds like a good start to me. Lay it on us theory-boy," Dean encouraged.

"Remember, I did say it was weird," Sam warned again before getting into the meat of his theory. "The thing is, most species of ants have fairly complex social structures. It's actually kind of amazing. They have workers, soldiers, drones, and of course they have a queen. According to what Dawn says, _what _an ant grows up to be depends a lot on what they were fed when they were larvae. Or, in this case, little kids. It has something to do with chemicals and hormones in the food. Anyway, I'm thinking that if these things have been dormant underground for possibly centuries, there probably aren't very many of them left. And, if that's true, they'd be looking to increase their numbers."

"Are you saying they want to adopt these kids and turn them into little baby ants?" Dean asked, obviously disgusted.

"I hate stupid ants," Buffy added.

"Maybe," Sam allowed, "but it would likely take years. It would explain why three of the children they decided to take are girls. If they need to build up their numbers, then they're definitely going to need a queen… or _queens_. I'm guessing some of these guys were human once themselves."

"I thought you said they came here in a UFO?" Dean asked with a smirk.

"Dude, I never said that!" Sam turned toward the Summers women and attempted to defend himself. He was clearly flustered. "I _never_ said they were aliens. Dean just can't let anything go. He always has to try and be funny. Smart ass," he accused, narrowing his eyes at his brother.

"You're too high-strung sometimes, Sammy," Dean responded, putting on his best innocent face. "Just chill. Learn to take a joke."

"I'm a little stressed out right now, Dean," Sam growled back, obviously not amused.

"Yeah, I can tell, cause you're rockin' the bitch-face."

"You're a real jerk," Sam shot back through gritted teeth.

"I warned you about this," Buffy said, addressing Dean under her breath.

"Do you want to know _why_ I'm so stressed out?" Sam continued. "Do you? For starters, guess how I found you?"

"I marked the trail, dude," Dean said smugly.

"You sure did," Sam agreed with a nod. "And when you ran out of paint, I see you decided to leave me a giant trail of blood to follow. Not to mention, I had to make it here without getting Dawn killed. And I had to try and fight one of these things with one lousy knife. So, _excuse me,_ if I'm not in the mood for any of your stupid crap!"

Dean felt a little ashamed. If he'd had to follow a trail of blood belonging to his brother, he'd be pretty damn freaked too. He probably should give Sam a break and apologize.

Then Dawn stepped in and caused a distraction by announcing in a stage whisper,"Don't say anything about flashlights."

"That's another thing!" Sam roared pointing a finger at Dawn. "She's you. You two," he said, gesturing between his older brother and the girl, "are the exact same person. You're a teenage girl, Dean."

"Hey!" Both of the accused parties protested in unison.

"It's okay," Buffy said sincerely, giving Sam a pat on the back. "Just ignore them. I think you did an awesome job finding us before we were eaten."

"Thanks," Sam replied, deflating a little.

"Yeah, good job, Sammy," Dean added. "I'm glad you made it here in one piece. Sorry I gave you so much shit."

"Well now that that's settled," Buffy said, grabbing Dawn by the arm. "Will you two gentlemen excuse us for a moment? I'm going to kill my dear baby sister."

Dawn rolled her eyes and retreated with Buffy to the other side of the room. Her sister was apparently determined to give her little 'safety first' speech now. It wasn't like there weren't more pressing matters at hand.

"So, Dawn," Buffy started, "you do know this is one of the dumber stunts you've pulled, don't you?"

"What was I supposed to do, just leave you in here to rot? I was trying to help."

"I know that, but you really should have stayed outside. I have enough to worry about."

"Well, if I'd stayed outside by myself, then what would I have done if one of those ant things had come out there? I wouldn't have had a chance, _that's what_. At least if I came in here, I knew there would be somebody to look out for me. It was possible I might even survive. I was just trying to look at the situation logically."

Buffy sighed. Her sister always tried to wear her down with some crazy form of circular reasoning. It didn't seem to matter that her conclusions were usually based on a whole lot of hot air. Naturally, she totally neglected to mention the fact that Buffy had begged her to stay at the hotel in the first place. The truth of the matter was, Dawn knew most people finally just got tired of arguing with her. It was a well-known and very effective strategy of hers.

"Never mind, Dawn, that's not what I really wanted to talk to you about anyway. I would've died from shock if you hadn't insisted on risking your life by coming in here."

"Then what?" Dawn asked, sounding confused.

"I just wanted to ask if you and Sam … If earlier… _You know_?"

"What?" Dawn asked innocently, attempting to force her sister to say the words.

"You know what I mean," Buffy said impatiently.

"Are you the morality police now? Jeez, I'm eighteen. What I do and who I do it with is my business... and for the most part completely legal_._ But if you have to know, yes, we did. And it was _amazing._ Sam is waaay kinkier than you'd ever imagine. I'd never even read about some of the things he tried. The guy should really write a how-to manual. It'd be a best seller. Anyway," she continued on, despite Buffy's shocked expression, "have you ever heard of something called a Furry Convention?I'll have to look into it, because Sam wants to take me to one in Vegas this summer."

Buffy was speechless. She wasn't quite sure how to process this new information. She glanced over at the Winchesters and back to her sister, her mouth hanging open. There was no way she would ever be able to look Sam in the eyes again. She would never have pegged him for such a degenerate. His brother maybe, but not Sam. He apparently had everybody fooled with his boy-next-door act.

"I'm messing with you Buffy," Dawn finally said, deciding to let her sister off the hook before her brain short circuited. "You're so gullible. Besides, I don't know why you're picking on me anyway. You're the one who's half-naked."

"I am not."

"I seem to remember you having a shirt earlier and it looks like Dean over there is wearing at least part of your missing wardrobe. Now _that's_ what I call kinky."

"Good one, Dawn. I hope you realize, you will be paying for all of that."

XXXXXXXXXX

"I think Cas might be in trouble," Dean said to his brother as soon as the girls were out of earshot.

"What makes you think that?"

"I tried calling and he never showed."

"That can't be good. Then again, you know how he's been lately. You think this is connected to the angelic civil war they've got going on up there? Raphael, maybe?"

"I don't know," Dean sighed, "probably. That guy is one major league bag of dicks. Shame you didn't throw his ass in the pit too."

"No kidding. I'm just glad the good ole' Winchester lucky streak is holding out today. If that whole mess is heating up, we've got more problems than we thought."

"Yeah, it's an early Christmas," Dean agreed.

Sam was silent for a moment, appearing to consider the situation.

"Hold on a second," he said – starting to smile. "You're telling me that you, _Dean Winchester_, called for help in under two hour and neither one of us was dead or dying? That's a record, man."

"Buffy was all upset," Dean replied defensively. "She was worried sick about her little sis. I didn't have a whole lot of choice. I had to do something."

"You've got it bad dude."

"Grow up, Sam. I was just cleaning up _your_ mess, since you can't seem to handle one little girl."

"Uh huh. Whatever you wanna tell yourself," Sam twisted the knife a little deeper, continuing on in a sing-song voice, "But I think that you have a crush."

"Oh, shut up! I swear, I'll … "

"What? What are you going to do, Dean? Sic your superhero girlfriend on me?" He was definitely enjoying his brother's discomfort. He did kind of deserve it.

"Just can it, Sam. You've been spending way too much time with your little Mouseketeer girlfriend. You're being immature. And wipe that goofy-ass grin off your face. You look like a moron."

Dean was about to continue laying into his little brother when he felt a hand touch the middle of his back. It was Buffy. He prayed she hadn't caught much of the conversation.

"Do I need to break-up a fight between you two?" she asked teasingly.

"No," Sam answered, trying not to laugh. "Dean's just grumpy."

"Are you okay, Dean?" she asked sweetly, much to Sam's amusement. "We really need to get out of here and get you checked out. Plus, I have to get my scythe back _right now_. I just know those weirdos are touching it with their creepy, pokey-fingers. Gives me the major wiggins just to think about it."

"Then let's get this crazy show on the road," Dean said, squaring his shoulders and trying to shake off his embarrassment. "I owe those bitches a serious beat down."


	11. Chapter 11

For the past twenty minutes, the group had managed to make their way through the tunnels without incident. There had been no further encounters with the ant people and Sam was hoping they would catch a break for once. He was really starting to worry about his brother- who was pale, uncoordinated, and quite possibly going into shock. There was no way the man was going to be able to fight. No sane person would even be walking around in his condition. Dean obviously had a severe concussion, along with the newly broken bone and God only knows what else. Sam just prayed his brother could manage to stay on his feet until they got out of the would be an awfully long hike back if he had to carry him, especially since he had taken a few good hits himself.

In any event, it was pointless to try to get his big brother to admit he needed to slow down, especially since he knew Dean wanted to play the tough guy for his crush. So, they lagged behind under the pretense of covering the rear, leaving the Slayer to take the lead, with Dawn safely tucked in the middle.

Less than five minutes later, Sam decided that his prayers were going to go unanswered (yet again). In true Winchester fashion, the day was about to go from bad to much worse. Just as he'd feared, his brother was now staggering badly and on the verge of passing out. Face first into the rocks and dirt. He hovered close and prepared to catch Dean before he busted another hole in his head.

Just then, suddenly and without warning, Castiel materialized in front of the group. His appearance caused Dawn to let out an ear-splitting scream of surprise to which Buffy responded by punching the angel squarely in the face.

"Goddammit, Cass!" Dean barked, having been shocked back into awareness.

"Dean, I wish you would not blaspheme," Castiel replied with typical stoicism, showing no reaction to the punch he'd just received.

"Well, I wish you'd learn to announce yourself. So, it looks like we both need to pray a little harder."

"This is Cas?" The Slayer asked, obviously surprised. "You're right, that appearing out of nowhere thing is a _really_ annoying habit."

"Yeah, it really is," Dean agreed.

The angel had a more rumpled appearance than usual. His hair was sticking up badly on one side of his head, his trench coat was wrinkled, and his tie was crooked. He stood for a moment silently studying the girl who had just given him a punch to the jaw, an impressively hard punch. For a human, anyway. He then turned his gaze to Dawn, a slightly puzzled expression briefly crossing his features. The Slayer immediately noticed his perusal and moved to step protectively in front of her sister.

"You are Buffy Summers, the original Slayer," Castiel stated, returning his gaze to her.

"I am," Buffy agreed slowly, trying to figure out who _or what_ this man was, and how the heck he knew her. "Do I know you?"

"We have met, but you probably do not remember. It was only briefly and I did not inhabit this vessel."

"Okaaay, confused now."

"Don't sweat it," Dean told Buffy as he managed to force himself to walk toward Cas without stumbling like a drunken fool. "He's a big fan of the cryptic. Aren't you Cas?" Dean asked, turning to address the angel. "What the hell is going on with you, man? You're lookin' a little rough."

"It's Raphael."

"Like the Ninja Turtle?" Buffy questioned from behind Dean.

Castiel continued with what he was saying, ignoring the Slayer. She apparently shared Dean's habit of making flippant comments at inappropriate times. "There have been some recent defections from his side."

"Well, that's good news for you isn't it?" Dean asked.

"Yes, but now Raphael is angry and it is causing some escalation on the battlefield," the angel replied, sounding weary. "I apologize for not coming sooner. It is very difficult for me to get away at the moment."

"It's cool. We know you've got a lot going on. I'm just glad to see you're still hanging in there," Dean said sincerely before adding, "Things were a little crazy down here for a minute or two, but we've got it all covered now."

Sam would probably throttle his brother if he didn't already resemble the walking dead. Did he actually just say: _'We've got it all covered'? _For the love of God! Dean was the most self-destructive, reckless dumbass he'd ever met. He was just going to let Cas fly away without even mentioning that he was probably bleeding into his brain. This was a new level of idiocy, _even for Dean_. Well, Sam wasn't about to just stand there and let him get away with it this time.

"Cas!" Sam said urgently, trying to be sure he grabbed the angel's attention before he disappeared again. "Before you go, can you fix Dean up? He's hurt pretty bad."

Castiel gazed at Dean intensely for a moment, causing the older Winchester to shuffle his feat in embarrassment. He hated being the subject of one of Cas's psycho-stares. The man still had a lot to learn about basic social skills.

"I am sorry Dean," Castiel said after a brief pause. "I was so distracted that I didn't realize the extent of your injuries."

"It's not a big deal," Dean shrugged, trying to keep up his facade of indifference. "I've had worse. But," he admitted reluctantly, "it might help out with the war effort down here."

"Of course, it is the least I can do," Castiel responded before placing a hand on Dean's shoulder.

A faint glow appeared where the angel had placed his hand and Dean's coloring immediately began to improve. The dark circles under his eyes faded away and the blood matted in his hair disappeared. Even the bullet graze on his neck was completely gone. The transformation made it all the more obvious that Dean had been in far worse shape than he cared to admit.

The angel removed his hand from the newly healed Dean and addressed the group somberly, "You will all need to take care," he warned. "You are facing the Nephilim and they are a formidable opponent. I only wish that I could do more to assist you," he added with genuine regret, "but I must return to heaven."

"Are you talking about the ant people?" Dean asked. "What did you call 'em?"

"The Nephilim. They are descendants of the fallen ones. Sons of God who mated with human women."

"Those things are part angel?" Dean asked in disbelief.

"They are an abomination."

"Hold on a second," the hunter said, looking like he'd just arrived at a very unpleasant conclusion. "You're sayin' that if you came down here and got busy with a woman… your kids would look like these freaks?"

"It is possible. They would likely have an unusual appearance."

"Unusual? Dude! You better wrap it, that's all I'm gonna say," Dean warned.

"Wrap what?" Castiel asked curiously.

"Never mind, Cas," Sam said, entering the conversation. "We can talk about that later. Much, much later_._ In fact…" Sam paused when he spotted one of the creatures coming toward the group holding the Slayer's scythe in front of him.

"That's mine!" Buffy snapped angrily spotting the newcomers as well.

She raised the blade Sam had loaned her and started to go after them, but Castiel stepped calmly in front of her and grabbed the scythe as the creature tried to bring it down on him. He casually handed the weapon back to a very stunned Slayer before placing his hands on either side of the monster's face and easily snapping its neck.

"There are still four more," Cas warned, turning back to face the group and apparently oblivious to both of the girl's astonished expressions.

"Remind me not to piss you off, Cas," Dean said, sounding rather impressed.

"I am sure that would prove helpful," Castiel replied with a hint of sarcasm. "Unfortunately, I am unable to stay longer," he continued. "I can tell you that if you go north for a quarter of a mile you will find the rest, along with the children they have stolen."

"We're good, Cas," Dean assured him. "I know you need to get back to it. Thanks for the heads up and for the... _you know_. Just watch your ass up there, okay."

Almost as soon as Dean spoke the last word the angel disappeared with the faint sound of flapping wings.

Dean then turned toward Buffy and beamed a gloating smile as he removed the improvised sling. "Guess I won't be needing _this_ anymore."

Buffy didn't reply. She just stood there tightly gripping her scythe, her brow knitted in confusion.

"Was that an _angel_ angel?" she asked tentatively. "Like an all flappy wings and heavenly hosts sort of angel?"

"Yeah," Sam answered. "I know it's a lot to take in."

"That would be an understatement," Dawn managed to squeak out. She appeared a little shell-shocked.

"I sucker punched him in the face!" Buffy exclaimed mournfully. "They're probably saving me an extra-special place in hell for that. Somewhere between Dick Cheney and that woman with all the kids."

"Which one?" Dean asked. "Octomom, the crazy religious lady, or the bitchy one with the freaky hair?"

"How do you even know all of that?" Sam asked in surprise.

"Dude, give me a break," Dean pled in his defense. "There's not always a whole lot to choose from on roach motel cable."

"The one with the hair," Buffy answered with a frown, after she decided that the brothers weren't going to start bickering again. "They'll probably make me get that haircut too… for punishment."

"Oh come on, you're not a monster," Dean said with a laugh. "There's no need to get your panties in a twist over it, anyway," he assured her as he fiddled with his cast, trying to pry open the crack. "The guy needs to learn to quit scaring the hell out of people. And I can promise you, first time he appears when I'm on the crapper, I'm taking more than one shot at him myself."

"Let me see that," Buffy said, pushing Dean's hand aside and making a face at his crudeness. She wiggled the tips of her fingers into the crack in the cast and popped it open easily before dropping it to the ground and nonchalantly dusting off her hands.

"Remind me not to piss you off, either," Dean breathed in awe.

"Cas was probably right," she replied with a smirk. "It would be a waste of time."

Dean just shrugged and happily flexed his right arm. "You want this thing back?" he asked, holding out the scarf.

"Put it in your bag, we never know when you might decide to break another bone."

"You're just jealous that I have connections in high places," Dean teased her. However, he did stuff the scarf in his bag, which is brother had been carrying for him. The scarf might just come in handy again, plus it was a bizarre souvenir of his time with the Slayer.

"What did you do with my pistol?" Dean asked Sam. "You didn't leave it outside somewhere did you?" He added accusingly.

"No, it's in my bag. But I don't see why you need it. You can't use it against these things, anyway."

"I know, but I want it. I feel naked without it," Dean admitted sheepishly.

Dawn snorted a laugh and pointed to her sister. "Sounds like Buffy. She'd sleep with her scythe if she could."

"I tried," her sister admitted, "but it's not very snuggable. I should get a special fuzzy case made for it."

"Fine, Dean," Sam said, shaking his head at the thought of both seemingly indestructible older siblings needing a security blanket. He retrieved his brother's gun and handed it over with a stern warning, "You better not fire it until we're out of this cave."

"You're the one who shot me, Sam. I think you need to get that straight."

"Whatever, Dean."

Dean was just elated to have his pistol back. He shined it a little with his shirt and checked the clip and sight before tucking it away in his waistband. "Now that's more like it," he breathed with satisfaction.

"Sorry to interrupt your heartwarming reunion," Buffy said a bit sarcastically, she'd never understand what men saw in guns. "But, did I just hear your angel friend talking about a war going on in heaven? That can't be a good thing. Just please tell me it's not the end of the world… _again_."

"Might be," Sam replied soberly, "if the wrong side wins, anyway."

"_But its_ _June_," Buffy whined. "Nothing big ever happens during the summer. I think there's a law."

The girl did kind of have a point, Dean decided. For the most part (unless you counted the summer he spent in hell) things tended to get pretty slow after an inexplicable peak in May, and usually stayed that way until late summer, early fall. "Maybe it's a false alarm," he said encouragingly. "Then again, maybe the prophet's too hammered to know what month it is," he added dryly.

Sam flared his nostrils and shook his head angrily. "I told him we had guns."

"Well, it better be a false alarm. I'm supposed to be on vacation," Buffy pouted, deciding she had no interest in the brother's conversation about prophets right now. The angel situation was enough to deal with for one day.

"Then let's have some fun," Dean said enthusiastically. "I don't know about the rest of you ladies, but I'm suddenly itching to kick a little ass."

"That would be more in keeping with the true spirit of summer vacation," Buffy agreed, her mood brightening. "Now, if somebody will just tell me which way North is we can commence with the ass kickings."

"That way," the brothers said simultaneously, pointing up the trail.

"Thanks," Buffy said brightly. "You know, the four of us actually make a pretty good team. We could start our own reality show, get rich and famous. Leave all this wacky monster-slaying behind us. If that loud, orange girl Snookie can do it, then I know we've got a shot. We even have all of the major ingredients. Sam and Dawn can be the booky research types, I'll be the beautiful star… and you," Buffy said linking her arm through Dean's, "can be the plucky, comic relief."

"You're crazy," Dean scoffed, raising an eyebrow in pleased surprise at Buffy's friendly gesture. "Sam's obviously the pretty one and I'm clearly the ruggedly handsome hero."

"Okay, then a fantasy show it is," Buffy teased. "I can live with that, as long as we can have a talking monkey."

"We can have whatever you want, sweetheart," Dean assured her.

"Good," Buffy chirped, still walking arm-in-arm with Dean. "We'll add it to the list then, right after monster killing, children saving, and tacos. On second thought, maybe we should squeeze in a shower before the tacos."

"I could go for that," Dean agreed, giving Buffy the once over.

"You know what I mean," she said, shoving Dean playfully with her elbow and turning a little pink. "We're all a little on the grungy side. Well, except for Dawn. She's somehow managed to stay squeaky clean."

"What can I say?" Dawn replied from behind the couple, where she and Sam had been childishly pointing and grinning at their older siblings. "I obviously take personal hygiene a little more seriously than the rest of you. I do think Dean's on to something though," Dawn added with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "The hotel did have an awful lot of signs about conserving water. So maybe you two should take your shower together. Ya know, for the environment."

Buffy turned and gave her sister a stunned look. "I can't believe you," she scolded. "I don't think he needs any encouragement."

"He really doesn't," Sam agreed, trying to suppress a laugh. He was going to lose it. This was just too much fun. He hadn't seen his brother act like this around a girl in ages, maybe never. He was starting to think that Dean might have more than sex on his mind this time. And while he was happy about that, he couldn't help finding it all a little bit hilarious.

"Well, what about you Sammy?" Dean began, determined to turn the tables on his brother. "I'm sure Dawn wouldn't mind conserving with you. She seems like the environmentally friendly type."

Sam was trying to think of something good to throw back at his brother when Dawn spoke up, the girl could obviously give as good as she got.

"Oh, I am _friendly_ Dean," Dawn said suggestively, "but I can't hold a candle to my sister. She's the greenest person I know. She'd do _absolutely anything_ to save the planet. She's my hero."

"Dawn!" Buffy snapped. "Where did I go wrong with you?"

"What do mean?" Dawn asked with feigned innocence. "You are concerned with the environment, aren't you?"

"I'm beginning to get very concerned with the level of pollution in that brain of yours. You're like a twelve-year-old boy."

"Dean," Sam said coughing behind his hand, earning him a look of exasperated disgust from his big brother.

Dean stopped and turned around to face the younger siblings, his eyes flashing daggers at his Sam. "We should be getting close, so maybe it's time to get our minds on the job," he suggested. "Don't ya think?"

Sam threw up his hands in surrender, but couldn't manage to put on a straight face. "Okay, truce," he said. "I'm all business."

"Good," Dean said sternly, before adding: "If you girls are good and let the grown-ups do their work today, we'll take you to Chuckie Cheese when this is all over."

"Only if I get to pick the toppings," Dawn added smugly, determined to get in the last word.


	12. Chapter 12

The two sets of siblings soon found themselves standing at the threshold to a massive chamber. Each took turns peeking around the corner, taking in the sight of the four remaining ant people as they stood at guard in front of an iron cage that had been sunken into the stone wall.

"Now I see why Cas acted like he was sending us to our funeral," Sam said in a half-whisper, flattening himself back against the wall.

"Yeah," Dawn agreed quietly. "I think we've found our soldier ants."

"What were the others supposed to be?" Dean asked in wonder.

"I'm thinking those were scientifically known as cannon fodder ants," Buffy answered him wryly.

The soldier ants did, unfortunately, appear more menacing than their predecessors. They were a good bit larger and wore hammered armor breastplates to enhance their natural armor-plating. They were also armed with ancient looking spears and swords. The tallest wore a preserved bear's head for a helmet, complete with teeth. Instead of carrying a spear or sword like the others, bear-head guy was armed with a bow and wore a quiver of arrows on his back.

"I'm not dying in here," Dean announced gruffly, after taking another glance at the guards. "_Hell no! _ I know I'll eventually go out bloody, but it won't be because of those circus freaks. That's just embarrassing."

"Look on the bright side," Buffy told him. "It's unlikely anyone will ever find our bodies. So, the tale of our shame will remain untold."

"Incoming!" Sam yelled as he spotted an arrow flying toward them. He quickly darted to the left, narrowly avoiding the arrow that crashed into the wall. Their presence was no longer a secret.

"Guess that means its game time," the Slayer said nonchalantly. "Dawn," she ordered, pointing behind her, "get back and stay there until this is over… or until we're all dead. If that happens, feel free to come on out and let them eat you."

"Way to stay positive, Buffy," Dawn replied as she ducked to avoid an arrow and sought shelter in the designated spot. She wasn't a coward, but she also wasn't an idiot. She'd seen how much trouble it was to fight the non-soldier ants and she had no weapon. She decided it was probably best if she stayed out of this one and let her sister concentrate on the slaying.

"Sam," Dean ordered, "bust those kids out of the cage while we've got 'em distracted."

"That should be simple enough," his brother replied doubtfully.

"Here they come," Buffy warned as she stepped out into the open, gracefully avoiding an arrow as it whizzed by her head.

One of the creatures raised a sword and immediately confronted the Slayer. She swung her scythe upward, severing its sword arm and sending black, oily, arterial spray into the air. She then quickly brought the blade around and finished it off with a beheading.

"Well that wasn't so hard," Buffy said happily to Dean as he picked up the fallen creature's sword.

"Yeah, only three more to go," Dean agreed, taking a practice swing with the weapon. "Son of a bitch!" he exclaimed in alarm as one of the arrows narrowly missed his side. "You're next," he promised the archer, pointing the sword in emphasis.

"Oh yeah," Buffy agreed. "You have got to go, because those arrows are _really_ starting to get on my nerves."

The pair advanced on the archer ant as it tried to draw the bow again. Its long fingers slipped a little in the attempt, delaying the shot and allowing Buffy and Dean to draw closer. Before either could engage him, however, the creature turned abruptly and ran through a doorway at the back of the chamber. Dean raised an eyebrow at the Slayer and gave her a cocky grin.

"Huh," Buffy said shrugging. "I guess they don't pay their troops very well."

"Guess not," Dean agreed, looking at his new sword in disappointment. "That was actually kind of a letdown."

"Dean!" Sam called out urgently from over by the cage. "I could use a little help here!"

As he approached the cage, Sam drew the attention of the two remaining soldier ants. He managed to knock one down and it was currently making a very unsuccessful attempt to rise. Like many insects, the ant people seemed to be stuck once they were on their backs. The upright ant, however, was still very much a threat. Currently, it had Sam pinned against the bars of the cage and was preparing to impale him with a spear.

"Just hang in there," Dean called out as he ran toward his brother. "I'm on my way."

Sam managed to roll to the side, dodging the first strike. Three of the children, who were hanging onto the bars watching the action, gasped and screamed in horror. Sam kicked out with his long legs, hoping to knock the thing off balance, but the soldier managed to avoid his feet. He rolled again, barely managing to avoid the spear. Thankfully, before the ant soldier could go for a third strike; his brother slammed the full weight of his body into the creature's side. It stumbled back a few feet giving Sam a chance to get off the ground. Dean then turned to address the children.

"Get away from those bars!" he barked at them as the creature began to advance with the spear again. The children backed away, terrified by the sight of the blood-splattered man with a sword. Dean felt a pang of guilt when he recognized their fear of him and added more gently, "I promise, we'll get you out as soon as we can. But you need to stay back so you don't get hurt." He then turned his attention to his little brother. "You okay?" he asked urgently.

"I'm fine," Sam answered tiredly, gingerly fingering his nose, which had begun to bleed again. "Just get him. I'll see if I can pick this lock."

Buffy had joined the battle, using her scythe to slice through the shaft of the ant soldier's spear. She followed-up with a hard kick to the creature's groin area, causing it to double over in pain. The Slayer had found another weak spot. It was hard to go wrong with the classics.

"Hurts, don't it?" Dean asked mockingly before switching the sword to his left and landing an uppercut punch beneath the ant man's chin. He immediately regretted the action, it felt like he'd hit a brick wall. He grunted in pain, burying his now throbbing fist under his other arm.

"You shouldn't do that," Buffy said, wincing in empathy.

Dean groaned. "Yeah, no kidding." He shook out his hand, deciding nothing was broken before switching the sword back to his right. "You're starting to piss me off," he told the creature, who appeared to have recovered from the kick. He took a swing with the sword, causing it to take a step backward. In response, the soldier ant pulled a knife from the sheath around its waist and raised it in defense.

"Mine's bigger," Dean said, slamming the sword into the hand holding the knife, causing the creature to lose its grip on the blade. "And guess what, bitch?" he asked, bringing the sword up and taking a dramatic pause. "There can be only one." He then took a carefully aimed swing to the base of the creature's neck and watched in amazement as it stood still for a moment - completely headless – and then slowly crumpled to the ground.

"Did you see that, Sammy?" Dean asked, turning to his brother with a childlike grin. "I am the freakin' champion. _That was awesome!"_

"Pretty cool," Sam admitted returning his brother's smile. It was a sad comment on their lives that Dean could find that much joy in a decapitation. He shook his head fondly and decided he may as well give in to the madness. He gave up on picking the ancient lock, grabbed a nearby rock and smashed it to pieces.

Buffy called out to the brothers. "What about this guy?" she asked, referring to the soldier ant that was still struggling to get off its back.

"Hang on kids," Dean said firmly, holding up his palm to stop them from exiting the cage. "You don't need to see this." It wasn't like they hadn't already seen plenty, but he didn't feel right about giving the children an up-close-and-personal demonstration if he didn't have to.

The Winchesters walked over to where the Slayer stood, gazing down at the struggling creature. "It's kind of sad," she said. "I never did like to see a bug get stuck on its back. But," she added, "I don't think I'm going to turn this one over."

"Good call," Sam agreed.

"You want to finish it?" she asked Sam. "You're the one that put it out of commission, so it's only fair."

"That's okay," Sam replied. "You two go ahead and knock yourselves out."

"So, Dean, you care to even the score?" Buffy asked with a teasing gleam in her eye. "By my count, I'm ahead by two."

"Nah. You may be up by two, but mine had style," he gloated. "Besides, this one's no fun."

"True," Buffy agreed, raising her weapon. "I guess we should just go ahead and put the poor thing out of its misery. Goodbye little ant man_," _she said as she brought the blade down. "Too bad you won't be missed. Once it was headless, she held the scythe up and cringed at the oily, black strings dripping from her blade. "Eww, it's too bad these things don't just turn to du-"

"Look out!" Dean shouted. He'd caught a brief flash of movement out of the corner of his eye and looked up just in time to see that the archer ant hadn't deserted after all. Apparently, it had only been seeking higher ground. Now it was standing in a doorway on a ledge above them, ready to let an arrow fly loose.

Buffy's gaze immediately found the threat and she quickly turned to avoid the arrow. Fortunately, her reflexes prevented her from taking the strike to the heart the creature had been aiming for. However, the arrow still went through the back of her left shoulder, leaving the shaft sticking out on both sides.

Buffy let out a pained cry and sunk to a kneeling position on the ground. Dean immediately pulled his pistol and trained it on the creature.

"Dean," Sam said evenly, attempting to draw his brother out of his furious state of concentration. "You know that's not a good idea, man. Just get Buffy out of the line of fire and I'll go take care of him. Okay?" Sam said, firmly clasping his brother's shoulder.

"Okay," Dean replied, reluctantly lowering the gun. "Just be careful."

"I will," he promised. "Just hurry up before – _shit - _that happens," he finished, after an arrow whistled between the two of them.

Dean crouched down and gathered up the Slayer as carefully as he could, given the circumstances, and made a break for the cage. He figured that it probably offered their best chance of finding shelter from the flying arrows.

He sat Buffy down gently, trying not to jostle the arrow and knelt in front of her searching her eyes for a sign to her condition.

"This is an exciting new experience," Buffy said, struggling to maintain a light tone. "I think I have an arrow sticking out of me."

It wasn't as if this was the worst injury she'd ever had, but this one had a distinct pain that was unfamiliar. She felt like she was being shocked by an electrical current with every tiny movement and, as much as she'd like to just rip the arrow free, she wasn't sure that was possible. The muscles on the injured side of her body weren't behaving as they should. They simply didn't want to do what she was telling them to do. _God, how she hoped this wasn't some type of permanent paralysis._

"We'll take care of it," Dean assured her. "Just try not to move too much." He carefully examined both sides of her shoulder, attempting to gauge the damage. "Can you breathe alright?" he asked.

"Yeah, I think so… but, I can't move too well," she admitted reluctantly. "It's way weird… I think I'm getting some free electroshock therapy."

"That's nerve pain," Dean informed her with a wince. "I've been there. Not a picnic, but it won't kill you. Seeing as how you can breathe, you didn't puncture your lung and the nerve pain and everything else will go away as soon as the arrow's gone," he assured her confidently.

"Hopefully," Buffy said. She had a feeling he wasn't as sure as he was trying to sound.

Muffled sounds of a struggle coming from outside the cage momentarily distracted them both from the arrow. Buffy noted that the frown line between Dean's eyes had deepened and somehow (almost impossibly) he appeared even more worried than he had the moment before.

"Go," she said firmly, grabbing Dean's wrist and giving it a slight squeeze.

He was visibly torn, unable to decide who needed him the most. "Sam can handle it," he finally said.

"I'm sure he can," she agreed, "but he is your brother. I know I'd be out there if it were Dawn."

"You sure?" Dean asked, his face showing a mixture of both gratitude and uncertainty.

"I'm sure," Buffy replied confidently, giving him a small smile. "Besides, I'm not going anywhere. I'll just entertain the kids until you get back."

_The kids… damn._ Dean had almost forgotten about them in the midst of all the excitement. He turned his head to see the three oldest standing a couple of feet away, their dirty faces pale with fear. The youngest was huddled silently in a corner, head buried against her knees, her face hidden by a mass of auburn curls.

"Is everybody okay?" he asked urgently. "Anybody hurt?"

The three stared at him uncertainly for a moment before the boy slowly shook his head. "We're okay," he said softly.

"Really?" Dean pressed. "What about her?" he asked, nodding toward the little girl in the corner.

"She's been that way since we got here," the oldest girl answered hesitantly. "She's scared… she won't talk to anybody."

"But is she hurt?" Dean asked again, trying his best to sound patient - even though he felt like his head may explode at any moment.

"No, I don't think so," the boy answered, a little louder than before.

"Great. Just hang tight and don't leave the cage," he ordered. "I'll be back in a minute."

Dean gave one last concerned glance at Buffy (who waived him off) before taking off after his brother.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Hey," Buffy said turning her head and forcing herself to give the kids a smile. "Some day, huh?"

"Are you gonna be alright?" the boy asked, stepping toward her. He seemed to have decided that the little blond lady wasn't quite as intimidating as the man.

"I'll be fine," Buffy assured him. She was doing her best to achieve a cheery tone and not add to the children's fear. "It takes a lot more than one measly little arrow to stop me. I'll be back on my feet in no time. Just wait and see. You're Brian, aren't you?" she asked the boy.

"Uh huh," he answered.

"Nice to meet you, Brian," she said. "My name is Buffy… and that," she added - looking up at the sound of approaching footsteps - "is my sister Dawn."

"Dawn" she scolded halfheartedly, turning her attention to her sister. "What are you doing here? I thought I told you to stay put."

"_Oh no, Buffy_," Dawn said cringing. "You have an arrow sticking out of you."

"Seriously?" Buffy asked. "I wondered what that was."

"Does it hurt a lot?" Dawn asked, ignoring her sister's attempt at humor. She reached out a hand and hovered hesitantly over the wound, afraid to touch it.

"I'd give it a solid nine on the 'owie' scale," Buffy admitted.

"I guess that's not on a scale of one to twenty?"

"No, sorry to disappoint."

Dawn chewed her lip worriedly. "What are we going to do, Buffy? _Where's Sam and Dean?"_

"Taking out Robin Hood," she answered. "They should be back any time now… And, don't worry, we'll figure out something. We've been in crazier messes."

In the distance, they all heard someone cursing loudly (most likely Dean, Buffy decided) along with a few grunts, followed by an even more elaborate round of cursing. "Don't repeat any of that," Buffy warned the children, who seemed to be listening to the dialogue with a little too much interest.

A few seconds later, they heard a sharp warning cry of "Dean, don't!"- followed by the deafening boom of three gunshots going off in quick secession.

Once the rumbling echoes of the gunshot finally subsided, things went silent in the cage for a moment. Aside from the ringing in everyone's ears.

The Summers sisters held their breath, waiting for a sign that the Winchesters hadn't fallen victim to one of their own weapons. A moment later, they both let out their breaths in a sigh of relief when they heard the reassuring sound of Sam berating his older brother as their voices came closer.

"Dammit, Dean! Why the hell did you do that?"

"It's dead, ain't it?"

"It was _already_ dead. I severed its spinal column. You can't pull crazy shit like that every time you get pissed."

"Well, now we're sure it's dead. Just relax, Sam. Who are you to be judging my anger level, anyway, Mr. Self-Control? I jammed the barrel in its mouth, the bullets had nothin' to hit but brain. I do know how to handle a gun, you know."

Both soon appeared at the entrance to the gate. Buffy noted they appeared to be in one piece, aside from a few new bumps and bruises. Dean immediately hurried to her side, determined to reassess her condition.

"Smooth move," Dawn said to Dean irritably as he knelt down in front of the Slayer. "Now I'll be the only eighteen-year-old I know with an old man's hearing aid. I'm sure it'll be a real conversation starter at parties."

Dean didn't respond to Dawn's scolding. If you asked him, this whole business of them being the same person was a giant load of crap. Right now, it was blindingly obvious that she was channeling Sam, and he didn't have time to listen to either them bitching and moaning.

He reached out and smoothed the Slayer's hair off her neck, checking her pulse point. "How you feeling?" he asked gently.

"There's an arrow sticking through me," she replied. "But other than that I feel just ducky." Noting Dean's lack of appreciation for her attempt at levity, Buffy added, "Seriously, I've had worse. But I do think I'd feel a whole lot better if you pulled this stupid arrow out."

"What do you think, Sam?" Dean asked his brother.

Sam knelt down and looked critically at the arrow from both sides. "I think it would be a lot safer if we just left it there until we can get her to a doctor. It's hard to know how close it might have come to hitting an artery. We could make things worse if we try to remove it."

"Yeah," Dean agreed, running a hand over his face. "I could try calling Cas again. I just don't know how long it'll take him to get here," he sighed.

"No," Buffy said firmly. "These kids are going to need enough therapy as it is. They don't need any magically-appearing weird guys in trench coats."

Dean kept talking, still addressing his brother and not Buffy, "I guess we'll just have to try and get her out of here without jarring the arrow too much."

"Hey!" Buffy said sharply. "Either I've died and entered the spirit world or you two are _completely_ ignoring me."

"Sorry, Buffy," Sam said sincerely. "We're just trying to figure out the best way to help you."

"Well, I have a suggestion. Get this damn arrow out of my shoulder!"

"Maybe they're right," Dawn suggested to her sister. "There wouldn't be much we could do if it cut through your artery. _You'd bleed to death._ It's probably best if we get you to a hospital first."

_Great, now Dawn was taking their side._

"Dean," Buffy said almost pleadingly to the silent man kneeling in front of her. "Please get it out. It hurts really bad, okay. To heck with the risks, you're dangerously close to having a weeping, wailing woman on your hands and I don't wear that color. It looks _very_ bad on me. So, do it, or I kick your ass."

"Buffy-" Dean began earnestly.

"_Dean_," she echoed back at him. "I won't bleed to death, I'm slightly tougher to kill than that. And, even if I did up and croak, I promise I won't haunt you."

"That's not funny," he replied.

Dean sighed with resignation and conducted another examination, trying to convince himself that removing the arrow wouldn't result in disaster. He placed his hand on Buffy's wrist and discovered that her pulse was now beating very rapidly beneath his fingers, she had a fine sheen of sweat on her skin, both pupils were dilated, and her eyes were glassy with unshed tears. It was clear she was in some pretty serious pain and handling like a champ. But, still, it would be quite a while before they could get her to a doctor.

"Okay," Dean said finally. "We'll take it out. But you'll need to hang in there a little longer… we have to do this right."

"Buffy, no!" Dawn said, sounding a little panicky. "I know it hurts, but this is dangerous. I'm freaked. Please wait."

"Sorry Dawn, I can't. Just try not to worry, okay. You're not getting rid of me that easy," she added, trying to give her sister a smile.

Dean studied the arrow yet again from both sides of Buffy's shoulder, seeming to come to a conclusion. "Guess we need to go ahead and bite the bullet," he said in a strained voice. "Sam, you thinkin' we should just pull it on through?"

"Yeah," Sam agreed looking at the end of the arrow where it protruded several inches from the back of the Slayer's shoulder. "It will probably do less damage that way. But we need to get these feathers off the end first. Looks like they're just tied on with strips of rawhide. Probably be easier to cut them off. I'm pretty sure there's a box cutter in one of our bags. That would do a better job than my knife."

Dean retrieved their bags and rummaged through them until he came up with a box cutter and handed it over to Sam. He wished they had some first-aid supplies too, but they could only carry so much.

"Here we go," Dean said without much enthusiasm. He pinched the shaft of the arrow with his thumb and two forefingers, and then wrapped his other arm around Buffy's waist. He was hoping to stabilize the arrow as much as possible while his brother worked on cutting off the rawhide strips.

Sam bit his lower lip and concentrated on cutting through the strips as cleanly and carefully as he could. Buffy sucked in her breath sharply and groaned a few times. Sam couldn't help but jiggle the arrow a little. Luckily the blade was brand new and razor sharp, so he was at least able to accomplish the task quickly.

"Well that's done," Sam said with a relieved sigh.

"Now comes the easy part," Dean said tightly. "Dawn, I want you to get on your sister's right side and hold her steady. If she passes out while we're doing this, we need to make sure she doesn't fall over."

Dawn knelt down and slipped her sister's right arm over her shoulder. Buffy gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Sam," Dean continued. "Hold your hand flat against her back. Don't let her fall," he warned sternly. He then began to remove his t-shirt.

"Are you trying to distract me with some male nudity?" Buffy asked, trying to inject some humor.

"It's to stop the bleeding," he said, unamused.

"Well, I guess we'll need one for both sides," Sam said removing his as well.

Dean felt a small tap on his shoulder and turned to see that the little boy was now bare-chested too and nervously offering up his filthy Iron Man t-shirt.

"Thanks, dude," Dean said sincerely, taking the shirt and offering the boy a small smile. "Why don't you three go over there and check on your little sister while we take care of this? As soon as we're done we're, hittin' the trail - so I need you to make sure everybody's ready. Okay? Can you do that for me?"

"I can," the boy said, sounding a little more confident.

"Good man," Dean replied encouragingly, giving the boy a nod before returning his attention to Buffy.

"You ready?" he asked her.

"Yes, more than ready. Just do it."

"Sorry, sweetheart, we're going to have to take it slow. Can't just rip it out. It'll be over soon though."

"Okay," Buffy bit back. "Just hurry up and pull it out slowly then."

Dean rubbed his sweaty palms against his jeans and then gripped the arrowhead with one hand and braced the other underneath the wound, just above the Slayer's breast.

"Ready?" He asked again.

"Just do it," Buffy said evenly, meeting Dean's worried gaze. "You're not going to kill me. I'll be fine."

Dean slowly began to pull on the arrow, inching it slowly out of the Slayer's shoulder. He kept his eyes focused on what he was doing, afraid he may lose his nerve if he saw pain or fear in her face.

Buffy gritted her teeth and tried to breathe through the pain. Every time the arrow hit the nerve it was pressed against, she felt like a seriously mean bolt of lightning was striking her. For a moment she felt a little woozy, but managed to remain conscious and to - for the most part - silently endure the pain. She did let out a short cry, however, when the end of the shaft left her shoulder.

The brothers immediately applied pressure to either side of the wound. Luckily, although there was a decent amount of bleeding, it was nothing like the pulsing spray that would come from a severed artery. After a few minutes the flow seemed to slow significantly.

Dean had used the little boy's shirt to stem the blood flow in the front. He then looped his own under Buffy's arm and tied it off tightly at her shoulder. As a way of maintaining pressure while securing the makeshift bandages.

"How you holdin' up?" Dean asked his patient, feeling a little more relaxed now that she wasn't losing too much blood.

"Much better," she answered with a relieved smile, flexing her now useable arm. "I'm back up to ninety percent Buffy. Think I'm even ready to try out that standing thing I've heard so much about."

"Just a minute," Dean said, reaching into his bag. "We need to do one more thing first."

"What?" Buffy asked suspiciously.

"This," Dean answered with a grin, holding up her filthy scarf.

"Is this your idea of revenge?"

"Only a little," he said giving her a wink. "Mostly, we just need to stabilize that arm and shoulder of yours. Say hello to your new sling, princess."


	13. Chapter 13

"I'm fine, Dean," Buffy repeated for what she swore was the ten-millionth time. "You can stop fussing over me now."

"Well, at least drink some water," he offered, holding out his canteen.

"No, save it for the kids. It's going to be a long hike back and I don't think we'll be passing a McDonalds."

Judging from Dean's skeptical expression, Buffy decided she needed some backup if they were ever going to get moving. So, she turned to her sister for support. "Come on Dawn, help me out here. Tell him I'm good to go."

"I don't know," Dawn said doubtfully, trying to hide a smile. "I think he may need to carry you."

"Dawn," Buffy said coolly. "Do you remember that spring break trip you wanted me to pay for? Something about Cancun and hot cabana boys? I'm starting to think that's not such a hot idea."

"_Fine._ You see, Dean, it's like this - Buffy has all sorts of freaky super powers. She's a super buzzkill for one thing. Plus, she has these super healing powers and obviously she's a super pain in the a…"

"Jeez Dawn," Buffy interrupted. "I liked you better when you thought I might bleed to death."

Dawn shrugged. "Well, you didn't, so it's business as usual."

"That proves it," Buffy stated. "My sister's treating me like dirt again. I must be fine."

"Suit yourself," Dean said gruffly. "Just don't expect me to feel sorry for you when you fall and bust your ass from dehydration. We're on a tight schedule here and I'm not stoppin' every fifteen minutes. I plan on getting back before it gets dark, because _I don't camp._"

Buffy gave Dean a slight squeeze around his waist with her free arm. "See," she said, "business as usual. Dawn's spiteful and you're mister grouchy pants. The natural order has been restored." She then stood on her tip toes and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. "Thanks for patching me up, grumpy," she said, giving him her best smile.

Dean felt his face getting a little warm and, to make things worse, his idiot brother was chuckling in the background. He couldn't count the number of women he'd been with and here he was blushing like a school girl over a peck on the cheek. It was humiliating. Obviously, he'd been out of the game too long. And Sam… that boy was dead meat. He'd be praying for some simple Nair in his shampoo bottle before he was done with him.

XXXXXXXXXX

Once she was able to get away from Dean, Buffy ventured outside the cage to retrieve her dropped scythe. She had just picked it up when she heard the shuffle of footsteps behind her. She turned to see Dawn along with the Henderson sisters, 7-year-old Emma and 5-year-old Rachel. Dawn's lips were pursed and she was wearing her pissy-face.

"What now?" Buffy asked.

"Mein Fuehrer in there kicked us out," Dawn huffed. "Said we were crowding little Laura too much. We were only trying to help. Weren't we?" she asked, looking at the children for confirmation.

The little girls nodded their heads vigorously in agreement, hands on their hips in a perfect imitation of Dawn. They appeared only too happy to start a new local chapter of the 'boys are gross' club.

"Ah," Buffy nodded in amusement. "The one man Winchester Gestapo strikes again. Maybe I'll buy him a pair of jack boots. But, seriously Dawn, he does have a point. That poor little girl is obviously completely overwhelmed. _It's heartbreaking._ We shouldn't put too much pressure on her."

"I don't know how he expects to make things any better," Dawn stated. "Ordering her around sure isn't going to help."

"You might be surprised," Buffy said. "He's not a complete ogre you know. He can actually be kind of sweet."

"She would take his side," Dawn told the two young sisters. "I almost forgot those two can't stop making googly-eyes at each other. I'm surprised they're not making with the smoochies right now."

That image caused both of the girls to start giggling, the oldest one covering her mouth in shock. Kissing was practically third base for the second-grade crowd.

"Don't you think these girls have been through enough today?" Buffy asked. "They don't need you corrupting them with any of your crazy conspiracy theories."

"Yeah right - _conspiracy theories_," her sister snorted, making quote marks in the air. "Is that what we're calling it these days?"

Emma seemed to suddenly lose interest in the scandalous love life of the adults once she took in the sight of the weapon Buffy was carrying. "Ooh, can I hold that?" she asked excitedly, pointing to the scythe.

"Sorry," Buffy answered. "It's a lot heavier than it looks."

"Can we touch it?" little Rachel asked hopefully.

"Okay," Buffy said reluctantly. She didn't really like anyone to touch her scythe, but it was hard to say 'no' to two sets of pleading puppy dog eyes. "Just don't touch the pointy end or the slicey end," she warned. "Somewhere in the middle would be good."

Both girls eagerly reached out their little hands to touch the Slayer's weapon.

"Cool!" the older girl exalted. "I want one."

"There's only the one," Buffy said proudly.

The littlest girl, however, was silent. When she first touched the weapon, she jerked back her hand almost as if she'd been shocked. Tentatively, she placed it back and then stood still like she was in a trance, her mouth hanging open in wonder.

Buffy and Dawn exchanged wide-eyed glances over the top of the girl's heads. "I think that's enough," Buffy announced, pulling the scythe away. "We need to see about getting you two back to your parents."

Rachel continued to stare after the scythe, her small hand outstretched, an expression of longing on her face. However, the spell was broken when her older sister pointed out a tiny bat that was clinging to a nearby wall. This new discovery caused the girl's focus to shift immediately, as only a 5-year-old's can.

"Are you going to tell her?" Dawn whispered.

"God, no!" Buffy whispered back vehemently. "She's just a baby. She deserves the chance to be a little girl. Besides - _maybe there's nothing to tell_ - it could have been static electricity or something. It doesn't prove she's a Potential."

"Didn't look like static electricity to me," her sister replied.

"Well, either way, it doesn't matter. Even if it is something, she has ten good years before she'll be called and she _will_ get to enjoy them," the Slayer said firmly.

"Okay then," Dawn replied defensively. "I was just asking. I won't say anything. That's your mess to deal with. Anyway, I think I owe you an apology."

"What did you do?" Buffy asked suspiciously. An apologetic Dawn was not something to take lightly.

"Nothing, I just… well I shouldn't have called you a buzzkill, is all. I totally owe you one for getting Sam to lose his shirt. That is definitely _buzz_ worthy."

Buffy had to roll her eyes. _Good grief._ "You figured me out. I intentionally allowed myself to get shot with an arrow just so you could drool over Sam's bare chest."

"And I appreciate it," her sister smiled happily. "And don't you even try and tell me you're not enjoying the view yourself. You know you've been checking out Dean and, like I said, he's not bad for an old guy. Maybe you can manage to come up with another bleeding wound? He doesn't have a lot more clothes to take off. So, you might get to see the whole package this time."

"_Issues_ Dawn… you have very serious issues. I'm beginning to think you need some professional help. I should never have let you spend so much time with Spike when you were younger. He rotted your brain."

"Whatever, Buffy. I'm just telling you that I've seen you looking and you're not fooling anybody with this saintly little act of yours. You're having the unclean thoughts, so either repent now or make with the sinning. I suggest the latter, by the way."

XXXXXXXXXX

The guys had made agonizingly slow progress with Laura. She seemed to be holding herself less rigidly once the room had been cleared some, but still refused to look up and had yet to utter a word. Her big brother had his arm around her shoulder, trying, once again, to convince her that their ordeal was over.

Dean lifted up Laura's hair from where it covered her face and spoke gently. "Hey, pretty girl," he said. "Why don't you open your eyes for me and take just one tiny little peek? You won't see any monsters. Those freaks are long gone. I promise. If I'm lying, you can sock my little brother in the nose."

"Nice, Dean," his brother said. "Tempt the traumatized child with violence. That's a real solid plan you've got there."

"I'm just tryin' to give her some control over the situation."

"Then offer your nose."

"Nah, yours would be a lot more fun. It's already been broken twice today, anyway. So, what do you think, sweetheart?" Dean asked the little girl. "Just give Sammy a look. He's practically a giant and I bet you could even make him cry."

Laura looked up cautiously at the man crouched in front of her. He was smiling and certainly didn't look like one of the monsters. She then dared a quick glance at his brother, who she decided might actually be a giant. But, he looked friendly enough. She wasn't taking any chances though, so she buried her head back against her knees.

"I want my daddy," she said quietly.

Brian was visibly excited by the fact that his sister had decided to speak again. "These guys are going to take us to him, Laurie," he assured her, squeezing her shoulders tightly. "They're super heroes or something. All the monsters are dead now! It was wicked awesome, you should've seen it."

"They hitted him in the head," the little girl replied miserably, her voice barely audible.

"Your dad's fine," Sam said encouragingly, remembering the news that one of the adult victims had a head injury. "My brother and I saw him on TV. Didn't we?"

"Sure did," Dean agreed. "He was real worried about you, though."

"Our dad was on TV?" Brian asked. "No way!"

"Way," Dean answered him. "You kids are famous now. I bet you even score a spot on Leno."

XXXXXXXXXX

Buffy couldn't help but smile at the sight of Dean carrying the little girl. She had her arms wrapped so tightly around his neck that he had to be half choked. Laura was still hiding her face, keeping it buried against the Dean's shoulder, but at least this seemed like progress.

"Is this wagon train ready to roll?" Dean asked.

"Everything's packed," Buffy answered him brightly. "We're traveling light."

"Awesome," he replied, "cause I'm freakin starved."

"I guess you kids are pretty hungry too," Buffy observed. "They didn't try to feed you anything did they?" she asked hesitantly, remembering Sam's theory about weird things in the food possibly turning them into little ants.

"They gave us a dead bird," Emma replied with a cringe.

"You didn't eat it, did you?" Dean asked.

"Eww…NO!" the girl replied in disgust, looking at him like he had three heads. "We weren't _that _hungry."

"Just making sure," he replied.

Dean then took in the sight of the Slayer standing a few feet away, looking remarkably healthy (and gorgeous) aside from the odd assortment of laundry she was wearing around her left shoulder.

"Why don't you let Sam carry that thing," he offered, glancing at her weapon.

"I don't mind," Sam assured her readily. "It's probably not a good idea for you to carry anything too heavy."

"Nope," Buffy answered. "My baby stays with me. Besides, I'm as good as new. Check it out." She then gave a demonstration by twirling the scythe over her head and to her side with her free arm. This impressed the children greatly, leading to lots of 'oohs' and 'ahhs'.

"Show off," Dawn commented.

"So," Dean began after shaking off his amazement at Buffy's display. "Does anybody need to pee? Cause we're not stoppin'."

The kids all shook their heads, then Brian added a little sheepishly, "I think Laurie already did… Uh, earlier."

Dean had noticed a slight dampness against his side. His face fell with the realization of what that dampness was. "Wonderful," he grumbled. "That's just friggin perfect."

The little girl raised her head from where it had been resting on his shoulder. She looked up at him shyly, her huge brown eyes brimming with tears and lower lip trembling.

"It's okay," he sighed in resignation, patting the little girl on the back. "Trust me, that's not the worst thing I've had on me today. Don't even worry about it."

Laura seemed comforted by this and assumed her previous position of hiding her face against Dean's shoulder. Sam, on the other hand, made the mistake of laughing at his brother's misfortune.

"You know," Dean said, suddenly sounding devious. "This isn't the first time I've had pee on me. Little Sammy here was a nightmare to potty train. And let me give you ladies a tip about changing diapers…"

"Dean!" Sam thundered in warning. "Just shut up. Nobody wants to hear that. _You're not right._ You realize that, don't you? There's something seriously twisted about the way your mind works."

The three older kids naturally found this extremely hilarious. Especially the fact that the really tall man had turned several shades of red. Potty humor was always a hit with an elementary school audience.

Buffy couldn't help but giggle a little herself. Dean had succeeded in lightening the mood of the children, but, for some reason, these things tended to come at his brother's expense. _Poor Sam._

XXXXXXXXXX

The kids seemed surprisingly nonchalant about the scattered carnage on their trip back through the cavern. Despite multiple stern warnings to look away - particularly from Buffy and Dean -the children were mostly in a state of morbid fascination. They pretended to re-enact beheadings and even threw a few rocks at one of the corpses before Buffy shooed them away. Laura was the only one who had no interest in viewing the fallout. She kept her eyes tightly closed and, after a while, appeared to have actually fallen asleep as Dean carried her.

"I blame video games," Buffy remarked to Dean. "These kids today have lost the proper respect for evil, dead things."

"No argument here," he replied. "Did you know they have one where you can actually kill zombies using happy little sunflowers and crap? It's insane."

"That is unnatural," she agreed.

Dawn dropped back from where she'd been walking with Sam and nodded to the sleeping girl Dean was carrying. "That's the most bizarre thing I've seen all day," she commented. "And I'm including the mutant ant people."

"Huh?" Dean asked when he overheard.

"You," Dawn answered. "I'd never have guessed that you – of all people - would be good with kids."

"What's that supposed to mean?" the he asked, feeling a little offended. "Kids love me. I happen to have a way with people."

"Uh-huh," Dawn drawled sarcastically. "You have a way with bossing people around."

"Ignore her," Buffy said. "I think you're great with children. You don't have any, do you?" she asked curiously.

Buffy caught a brief flicker of emotion as it crossed Dean's features and noted that Sam had turned around as if to gauge his brother's reaction. She instantly regretted the question, but it had seemed innocent enough.

Dean quickly hid his feelings, pasting on one of his signature smirks. "Nah," he said. "What would I do with a kid? Besides, I've always had my hands full taking care of my little sister, Samantha. She's kinda high maintenance."

Sam gave an obligatory eye-roll and called his brother a "jerk". He seemed a little sad though, like he was concerned for his brother and only playing along with the usual routine for his benefit. Buffy decided that this probably called for a change of subject.

"So," Buffy said. "Got any brilliant plans for how we can get these kids back without ending up on national television?"

"Or in prison?" Dean added. "_I got nothin'_."

"Me neither," Buffy shrugged. "Sam looks like plan-guy, let's ask him."

"Why does Sam look like plan-guy? If anybody's plan-guy, it's me. I always have a plan."

"You just said you were sans plan. Right here, less than two seconds ago. Granted, that was a while back, but I'm still fairly certain that's how it went down."

Dean smirked at Buffy. "I'm still workin' on it, smarty pants. Just wanna be sure I get all the kinks out first."

"Right. Well, I'm working on a top secret, yet currently entirely nonexistent plan of my own. And I bet mine's better."

"First round of beers says it's not," Dean challenged.

"Does it have to be beer?" Buffy frowned. "How about a round of Frozen Kahlua Mudslides instead?"

"Please, that's nothin' but a glorified milkshake."

"It has alcohol in it," Buffy defended. "They're really good too. Much better than icky old beer."

"Then you better hope you win, sister, otherwise it's Miller time."

XXXXXXXXXX

To everyone's great relief, the sun still existed. They had finally made it out and with only one minor meltdown along the way. The possible Potential baby-slayer was no longer enjoying this adventure and had decided to make sure everyone knew about it.

At first Rachel had been thirsty, which was something that could be dealt with. After that, she spent a good twenty minutes whining about being cold, how she was starving to death, how badly her feet hurt, and finally planted herself on the floor of the cave and insisted that she could no longer go on. She even tried to kick Sam when he knelt down to give her a pep talk. She then topped it all off by bitterly promising each of the adults that she would be "telling mommy and daddy" just how horrible they all really were. The only option that seemed to satisfy her was for Dawn to give her a piggyback ride. So, the youngest Summers sister had spent the last half hour carrying forty-five pounds of kindergartner on her back. She was beginning to wonder if throwing a similar tantrum might do her some good as well. _Maybe she could score a ride from Sam?_

"Thank God we're out of that hole," Dean commented. "Caving blows."

"It does," Buffy agreed. "Scratch that off the bucket list. Been caving, hated it, moving on."

"Well," Sam said, "now that we've established that, I think it's time we figure out a way to get these kids back to their parents… without getting thrown in jail for kidnapping."

"But you saved us!" Brian exclaimed. "Why would they throw you in jail for that?"

"It doesn't work that way," Buffy tried to explain. "Nobody will believe what really happened."

"But, why not?" Emma asked. "It's the truth! We're supposed to tell the truth, aren't we?"

"Of course," Sam said. "But in this situation, the truth could get us all in a lot of trouble. And it's like Buffy said, nobody's going to believe you."

"It's cause you guys are superheroes, isn't it?" Brian asked excitedly. "You have to protect your secret identities."

"Exactly," Dean agreed. "If anybody finds out I'm Batman, it's all over. I'll never get any peace."

Brian's eyes went wide. "I knew it! I knew you were superheroes."

"He's not Batman," Sam said, shaking his head.

"Of course I'm Batman," Dean defended. "We were in a cave weren't we? Besides, Buffy's a way hotter Batgirl than Alicia Silverstone ever was."

"I can't argue with that," Buffy agreed.

"Just chill out, Boy Wonder. These kids will keep our secret. Won't you?" Dean asked.

"We swear," Brian said breathlessly.

"I'll never tell," Emma agreed. "And I'll make sure Rachel keeps her big mouth shut, too."

"See," Dean said with a grin. "It's all good."

"Well what about me?" Dawn asked. "I wanna be a superhero too."

"You can be Catwoman," Buffy offered.

"But that movie sucked," her sister pouted.

"Yeah," Buffy agreed. "Maybe we should think of something else. Especially after what happened to Miss Kitty Fantastico… It just doesn't seem very tasteful."

"Hey, that was an accident! And I said I was sorry."


	14. Chapter 14

"Well I'll be damned," Dean said as he looked through a pair of binoculars. "Batgirl does have supersonic hearing."

"Yeah," Dawn agreed, sounding less than impressed. "Just try sneaking out with her around. But, on the plus side, it did teach me some serious stealth skills. I'm practically a ninja."

"You never got past me," Buffy stated confidently. _"Did you?"_

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Dawn said coyly. "Too bad a ninja never reveals her secrets."

Sam squinted into the distance, trying to make out the tiny specks his brother was gazing at. "So, what have we got?" he asked. "Park Rangers or Feds?"

"Civilians," Dean answered happily. "Looks like about six of 'em, plus a dog. Volunteer search and rescue team I'm guessin'. Here," he said, handing the binoculars to his brother. "Check it out."

"Good deal," Sam said as he peered through the lenses, confirming Dean's conclusion. "That should simple things up for us. We might even be able to avoid the whole prison thing entirely."

"We might," Dean commented. "Lucky for us, most of the pros are too busy strong-arming Latinos to bother with the Canyon. They have to stake out that southern border. Cause obviously, this was the work of renegade field hands."

"Obviously," Buffy agreed sarcastically. "After all, the popular theory _is_ international child sex traffickers. Ugh," she groaned. "It makes me feel dirty to even say that out loud. Personally, I'd rather hang with the mutant bug-people."

"Amen," said Dean. "The human monsters are way scarier."

"_Oh yeah_," Buffy agreed, before holding out her hand to Sam expectantly. "I wanna see too," she said.

"Aren't you rockin' the x-ray vision?" Dean asked teasingly.

"Don't be ridiculous," she answered as she adjusted the binoculars Sam had handed her. "X-ray vision is Superman's thing. You need to get your superpowers straight if you're gonna work undercover."

The Slayer gazed at the scene below them for a few moments. "Cute doggie," she commented. "Looks like a Labrador Retriever. They're cool dogs… be nice to have one someday," she said wistfully. "_Ooh_, turn around again," she ordered, obviously speaking to one of the distant searchers. "I thought so… Bandage on his head and everything. I knew I recognized him from the news."

"Is it my dad?" Brian asked excitedly.

Laura looked up hopefully from where she'd been sitting, idly picking at the grass. She had perked up quite a bit since leaving the cave and had even allowed Dean to place her on the ground so he could retrieve his binoculars.

"Let me see," Dean said, snatching the binoculars away from Buffy's face.

"Rude much?" Buffy commented, giving him a sharp slap to the arm.

"Ouch! That stings," he exclaimed, rubbing his bicep. "Shouldn't you have a rule against hitting people?"

"I do," Buffy stated smugly. "But you're a special case."

Dean returned the Slayer's smirk before checking out the search group again. "I think you're on to something," he admitted. "Hey Brian," he called out to the boy. "Come here, buddy, I want you to take a look at this."

Dean helped the boy adjust the binoculars to his face and pointed out where he should look.

"That is my dad!" Brian exclaimed. "I knew he'd find us."

"He's a smart man," Dean commented. "The cops are all off chasing their tails, looking for some mysterious band of pervs, but he knew what he saw. Good for him."

Brian beamed proudly at Dean's observation while the rest of the children erupted into excited chatter. Emma and Rachel wanted to see their Uncle Scott for themselves and Laura was on the verge of a full-blown tantrum. She jumped up and down trying to snatch the binoculars out of her brother's hand and furiously demanded to see her daddy NOW.

Dean retrieved the binoculars from Brian and set about attempting to show the little girl her father. It wasn't easy since there was no way to adjust them to properly fit her tiny face. She had to peer through only one of the lenses, plus she kept fidgeting and trying to take hold of the binoculars herself. All the while she was becoming more and more frustrated. Dean finally succeeded after he sat Laura on his lap, found her father in the sights, and somehow managed to hold the lenses steady while she bounced around and tried to snatch them out of his hands. He then had to attempt to convince the girl that there was no way her father could see her waving to him from such a distance.

Once Laura had been satisfied (sort of) Sam and Dawn helped Emma and Rachel to see the search group. They were disappointed that their dad wasn't with them as well. Sam explained that there were dozens of different searches going on, all over the state, and their father was likely in one of those. What he didn't mention was that Emma and Rachel's dad probably thought that Mr. Kelly was on a wild goose chase. Sam knew that the 'normal' people all believed the man was either completely delusional and/or suffering from brain damage.

"So, how do we want to play this?" Dean asked.

"No offense," Dawn stated, "but I don't think it's such a hot idea to have two shirtless men turning up with a shirtless 8-year-old boy. That would look a little shady."

"I agree," Sam said. "It's best if they don't see us at all. I say we stay upwind of that dog, get as close as we can, then stand back and let the kids _accidentally_ run into the search team."

"Sounds like a plan," Dean agreed.

"I don't want them seeing _any_ of us," Buffy stressed. "Best case scenario - we wind up as big heroes and get our faces plastered all over the tabloids. Giles would kill me and then I'd never get another vacation."

"Yeah," her sister agreed. "Not to mention how hideous your hair would look in a picture right now. Even I don't want to see you humiliated that badly."

"Thanks, Dawn. That was almost sweet."

XXXXXXXXXX

The four managed to find a large outcropping of rock that was close enough to the search and rescue team to ensure that the kids didn't have far to go - yet far enough away to hopefully avoid discovery.

"You be good, sweetheart," Dean told Laura as he affectionately tousled her hair. "Your big brother is going to take you to your dad now." The little girl gave Dean one last squeeze around the neck and waved at him shyly before eagerly holding out her arms to Brian.

"_Nuh uh._ She can walk." her brother said, looking completely disgusted as he directed he gaze at her pants area.

"Well, she's not going to," Dean replied as he handed Laura over to the reluctant boy. "If Batman can handle a little bit of pee, then so can you. It's not all fun and games in this business, so man-up and deal."

Brian accepted his little sister without any further complaints. After all, he didn't want his new heroes to think he was being a baby - but that didn't mean he had to like it.

Buffy knelt down in front of Rachel (the possible future Slayer) and took one of her hands. "Sweetie, I want you to promise me something before you go," she said sincerely.

"What?" Rachel asked curiously.

"I need you to promise me that you'll enjoy your childhood."

"Huh?" The little girl asked, her brow crinkled in confusion.

"I'm serious," Buffy continued. "I want you to live your life to the fullest. Take some dance lessons or I don't know… cooking lessons or something. Heck, you could even learn origami. Anyway, the point is to have fun and don't have any regrets. Because, when you get older, things just might get a whole lot more complicated."

"Uh, okay… I promise," Rachel replied, suddenly looking at Buffy like she was a crazy person. "Can I go now?"

"Sure," Buffy said, sounding less sure of herself. "Fly free. I've imparted my sage advice."

"Great job," Dean said quietly. "I don't know what the hell that was all about, but now they all want some words of wisdom."

"Uh oh," Buffy said after taking in the expectant faces of Emma and Brian. Even little Laura was looking at her curiously. "I don't have any words of wisdom," she replied to Dean under her breath.

"Well, you better come up with some quick, before the wind changes and your cute little doggie gets our asses tossed in the clink."

Buffy bit her lip and turned to face the children, raising her hand in a tentative Vulcan salute. "Uh… May the force be with you?"

The kids shrugged and turned their faces to Dean, apparently expecting some advice from Batman as well. The hunter gave the Vulcan salute himself and searched his mind desperately for some wisdom of his own. "And don't forget to floss," he finally said.

"Hugs not drugs," Buffy offered.

"Absolutely," Dean agreed. "Crack is whack. Now get your asses out of here."

Sam looked over at Dawn, an astonished expression on his face. "Jesus Christ," he whispered. "What the hell just happened?"

"I don't know," Dawn replied with a groan. "That was horrible! They totally just bitch-slapped the entire sci-fi community." Sam raised an eyebrow at that comment, but Dawn continued on undeterred. "Maybe we should have left those kids with the ants," she said. "I mean, it might not be such a bad life. Who are we to judge?"

Sam shrugged. "At least they wouldn't have had to witness _that_."

XXXXXXXXXX

They watched the kids until they were "found" by the search team.

Scott Kelly nearly collapsed in tears at the sight of his children. Buffy was afraid she might have to rush out and prevent him from actually squeezing them to death - which would have totally blown their cover. It was a close call, but in the end she decided that the situation didn't call for a Slayer.

Buffy was more than a little moved herself. It wasn't often that she got to see the _fruits of her labor_, so to speak. There were the random drunken club-hoppers that she saved from vamp attacks, but those didn't seem to pack the same emotional punch. It wasn't like they deserved to die or anything, but she had to wonder at the sheer number of idiots who thought it was a good idea to stumble around drunk in dark alleys - on a hellmouth. It was mind boggling.

And then there was Dean. He had barely held it together when the family had been reunited and had spent the last ten minutes not looking directly at anyone, most likely afraid that someone would see tears in his eyes. _It was completely adorable._ Something that Buffy was one-hundred percent sure he didn't want to hear. So, she held her tongue and pretended to be really interested in the scenery, which was pretty cool.

Dean had deliberately lingered at the rear of the pack when they'd started the journey back toward their vehicles. He wanted to savor the fact that a job had actually gone right for a change. Not just right, but almost freakishly perfect. He was waiting for the other shoe to drop, to be honest. They had actually prevented not just one, but two families from being torn apart. Something he'd never been able to have with his own family. It was all a little overwhelming. Once he was sure he had regained his composure, he sped up his pace a little and fell in line beside Buffy.

"That's what this job should be about," he remarked thoughtfully.

"Very true," Buffy agreed. "How sad is it that happy endings are a rare bonus in this business?"

"They're a bonus in other businesses too," Dean said. "But you usually have to pay extra."

"What?" Buffy asked curiously before taking in the sight of the hunter's leering grin. "Oh," she replied. "You mean _that_ happy ending. I should have known. And here I was thinking you were deep-thought guy."

"I can't afford to have deep thoughts," he said a little sadly. "There's always some bullshit going on these days. A lot of the time… I don't think I'm helping anybody," he admitted.

Buffy was a little surprised to hear Dean say that, because it sounded a whole lot like sharing a feeling. She figured she'd best keep her reply short and sweet, however, because the man didn't seem too comfortable with emotion.

"You helped those kids," she stated simply, "and that counts for a lot."

"Yeah," Dean sighed, smiling a little and rolling the tension from his shoulders. "I guess it was a pretty good day."

"I think it's been a _great_ day," Buffy said smiling.

"You were impaled by an arrow," Dean pointed out dryly.

"I didn't say there weren't some bumps in the road. Like, for instance, that time I tried to KO one of the heavenly hosts."

Dean laughed. "Are you kidding? That was awesome! Definitely one of the high points of the day."

"You're twisted," she teased. "Besides, I'm hoping the best is yet to come."

"Oh really," Dean said, raising his eyebrows.

"Down boy," Buffy said smiling. "I just meant I'm looking forward to us all going out. We should celebrate our big win, have some Mexican food… do a little dancing." _Maybe she was thinking about some other goodness, but she didn't have to tell him that._

"I don't dance," Dean stated firmly, "and I think we're going to have to make-do with hospital food tonight."

"Why?"

"Did you get whacked in the head today, too?" he asked incredulously. "Does _'impaled by an arrow'_ even ring a bell?"

"_Oh that_," Buffy said, sounding like she may have actually have forgotten. "I don't need a hospital for that. Super healing powers, remember? I'll be sore for a couple of days, but it's really no big. Besides, you already fixed me up."

"A couple days?" Dean scoffed. "Even if I did believe that, you're forgettin' how germy that cave was. I was gonna salt-n-burn that shirt."

"I'm not worried," she replied brightly. "I'm pretty sure that the Powers fully considered germs when they created the Slayer. I mean, have you ever really looked at a vamp nest? The average vampire isn't exactly Martha Stewart. A petri dish could have a field day in one of those places. And I still haven't caught the flesh-eating bacteria."

Dean shook his head, deciding that reasoning with Buffy was a whole lot like reasoning with a Winchester – completely pointless. "You have an answer for everything don't you?" he asked in exasperation.

"Yep. I'm a walking, talking encyclopedia of all things Slayer."

"Fine. But I hope you know you won't be so pretty once the gangrene sets in."

"Hey," Buffy said, giving Dean a light push. "That was uncalled for. I'll be pretty. I might smell a little funky if that happens, but I'll still be pretty. _I hope_."

XXXXXXXXXX

"Three hours?" Dean exclaimed. "Why the hell do you need three hours?"

"To get ready," Dawn said with a clearly implied 'duh'.

"At least, three hours," Buffy corrected. "We only have one shower."

"Do you realize how long it's been since lunch?" Dean asked with a groan. "Sam, do you believe this crap?"

"It's okay, Dean," his brother answered patiently. "We'll get you a snack."

"That's just freakin' ridiculous," Dean groused as he pulled a scrap of paper from the Impala's glove box and jotted down his cell number. "Here," he said, shoving the paper into Buffy's hand. "Call us when you get ready. Hopefully I won't starve to death before then."

"Jeez," Dawn said. "Are you diabetic or something?"

"He takes food very seriously," Sam replied before Dean could get in his own smart answer.

Buffy searched her pockets for her cell phone so she could program in Dean's number. She kept her head down while she searched, so he couldn't see that she was about to crack up. His cranky act was getting more and more amusing – something that was probably a good indicator that she was falling for him. You had to really like a guy to find his annoying habits endearing. After checking her pockets for the third time she realized it was a lost cause and uttered a deep sigh.

"I lost my phone in the cave," Buffy said sadly. _This was getting embarrassing._ She just couldn't seem to keep up with a phone.

"How many is that this year?" Dawn asked, her voice dripping with exasperation.

"Only two," Buffy said defensively. "I have extenuating circumstances," she stressed. "It's hard to worry about a phone when you're busy trying not to get eaten."

"Do we need to go back?" Dean asked, hoping he sounded patient. The sad truth was that he would go back if she wanted him to. He hoped that didn't mean he was turning into Sam.

"Hell no," Buffy said quickly. "Dawn has hers. I'll just have to get another one… _again_."

"So, three hours then?" Dean asked.

"Give or take," Buffy said smiling. "I promise we'll get you some dinner before malnutrition sets in."


	15. Chapter 15

The Summers sisters had decided it was best to just meet the guys at the Mexican restaurant they'd chosen. It was closer to where the Winchesters were staying and Buffy was afraid Dean might have a meltdown if they had to drive thirty minutes to come and get them and then another thirty minutes to get to the restaurant. After all, she'd already pushed it to the 3 ½ hour mark.

She had trouble finding the right outfit for one thing. She wanted to look pretty, but it also had to be something that didn't put too much pressure on her left shoulder. Her shoulder had already begun to heal quite a bit, but she did have Dawn wrap the wound in gauze just in case it started bleeding again. For the sake of comfort, she ended up deciding to go without a bra and opted for a cami with thin spaghetti straps instead. She wore a blousy satin top over it to hopefully make it less obvious she was braless. Once that was accomplished, she'd had a hard time picking out the rest of her outfit. She finally decided on a nice summery skirt with a pair of strappy sandals.

Then there was the tragedy that was her hair. She wasn't able to use her left arm a lot, so it was hard to achieve the perfect blowout and Dawn was way too busy with her ridiculous mound of hair to even bother helping her. So, Buffy ended up scrunching it a little and letting it air dry. Hopefully it wouldn't be too hideous.

She was very pleased at Dean's reaction to her. He'd thrown on the charm about how hot she looked, so apparently she had at least managed to make herself presentable. She was no longer covered in bug blood _that_ had to be an improvement.

What really got her though was how concerned Dean was about her shoulder. The first thing he'd noticed was that she wasn't wearing a sling. She assured him that she didn't need one and promised she was trying to use her left arm as little as possible.

When the hostess showed them to their booth, Dean made sure to pick the side that would allow Buffy to have her left shoulder safely protected against the wall. He didn't want to bump it himself or have some clumsy asshole slam into it as they walked by. Sam noted that the side Dean chose was the one that put his back to the door. That was twice in one day. The man obviously had it bad.

XXXXXXXXXX

"I'm sorry sir, I can't hear you."

Sam covered his laugh and watched in amusement as the young waiter anxiously waited for his brother to repeat himself. It was 8 o'clock on a Friday night, the restaurant was packed, and the guy was obviously in a hurry to get to his other tables.

Dean cleared his throat. "A round of Frozen Kahlua Mudslides," he repeated in a gravelly voice, giving the waiter his most intimidating glare. If this kid so much as smirked, Dean was going to feed him his teeth.

"Yes, sir," the waiter replied evenly, keeping his features carefully controlled. "Would you like whipped cream on those?"

Dean lowered his head and rubbed his temples. "Do we want whipped cream?" he asked Buffy tiredly.

"Yes, please," Buffy said cheerfully, directing her reply to the waiter. "And can we get cherries on top, too, and maybe a little bit of chocolate sauce? _Oh_ and a glass of water for everyone. Thanks."

When the waiter had moved on, Dean turned his glare on Sam. "You're a damn traitor," he told him.

"Who, me?" Sam asked innocently. "Just trying to be fair is all. It was Buffy who heard those guys calling for the kids. If she hadn't heard them, then I couldn't have made a plan. So, first round of drinks are her choice."

"You just wanted a chick drink," his brother accused.

"Yikes. I just realized something," Buffy frowned. "I hope they didn't include Dawn as part of the _'_round'. I better catch that waiter," she said, starting to raise her hand.

Dean caught Buffy's wrist before she could summon the waiter and gently lowered it to the table. Buffy shivered a little at the contact, met his eyes, and for a moment completely forgot what it was she had been doing in the first place.

"If they bring her one, I say let her have it," Dean said.

"Have what? Oh…" she said, suddenly remembering that they were discussing giving her underage sister booze. "No, we can't do that."

"Come on, Buffy," Dawn pleaded. "It's just one drink."

"Give her a break," Dean said, his hand still covering hers. "These things don't have any juice. I bet little Laura Kelly couldn't even catch a buzz from one."

"I don't know," Buffy said uncertainly.

Dean let go of the Slayer's hand and casually stretched his arm over the back of the seat behind her. "Don't even try and tell me that you never got jacked up on Bartles & James at a slumber party," he scoffed.

"There were a few unfortunate incidents of the underage drinking persuasion," Buffy admitted. "_Hence_ my reluctance," she stressed, giving her sister a meaningful look.

Dawn huffed and rolled her eyes. "This isn't the Hellmouth Buffy. I'm ninety-nine percent sure these drinks will be both curse and lizard-demon free."

"Okay," Buffy reluctantly replied to her sister. "But just the one… And be warned," she continued, turning to Dean. "If Dawn suddenly sprouts a unibrow and decides to club Sam over the head, _you _get to deal with it. I've washed my hands."

"Sure thing," he replied, shrugging his shoulders in confusion.

"Yay!" Dawn exclaimed clapping her hands softly. "Thank you, Dean," she rejoiced. "You're actually kinda cool."

"Kinda?" he replied. "Dude, I'm like the freakin' Randy Rhodes of cool."

"Who's that?" Dawn asked.

Dean looked offended. "One of the greatest guitarists of all time, founded Quiet Riot, died in a plane crash?"

Both Buffy and Dawn shook their heads.

"He played with Ozzy," Dean added in exasperation.

"The reality TV guy?" Buffy asked.

Dean threw up his hands. "How could both of you be so completely out-of-touch with your own cultural heritage?"

Sam laughed. "Not everybody lives and breathes the mullet rock, bro. You're at least thirty years behind the times."

"I just happen to appreciate the classics," Dean stated. "Personally, I think it's sad that nobody learns their history anymore."

"Write your congressman," Sam replied. "Tell him how important it is to support education."

"Bite me, Sam."

Before the insults had a chance to escalate, the waiter arrived with the drinks. Dawn took one glance at the tray and realized that he had indeed brought one for her. She kept her head down and pretended to be looking at her phone while the waiter handed them out. She was afraid he might get a good look at her face and decide he needed some I.D. Fortunately, he was more interested in quickly getting their food orders and moving on to his other customers.

Dean suspiciously surveyed his drink, which closely resembled a chocolate milkshake. An extremely pimped out milkshake - overflowing with whipped cream, drizzled in chocolate, with a maraschino cherry on top.

"I feel like I'm in an episode of Happy Days," he grumbled.

"Just try it, Fonz" Buffy teased. "They're wonderful. Seriously, you may just swear off beer for life."

HE gave her a look that said _'that would never happen'_ and picked up the drink cautiously. There was so much whipped cream on the thing that the straw was barely peeping out of the top. He made several false starts, trying to determine the best angle of attack, before finally digging in.

"That's a damn good milkshake," Dean managed to comment in the second before the flash of his brother's camera phone went off in his face.

"Dammit, Sam!" he snapped.

"Ha, Ha," Sam taunted, pointing at his brother's face. "Gotcha."

"Turn around," Buffy said to Dean. "You've got something… right there… got it," she said as she reached up and used her index finger to scoop up the large dollop of whipped cream that was sticking to the top of his nose.

Dean was pretty sure his heart actually stopped for a moment when she popped that finger in her mouth and sucked off the whipped cream. He swallowed hard and prayed that she wouldn't be looking down at his lap anytime soon. For the love of God, did this girl have any idea what she was doing to him?

"Uh, Dean," Sam said snapping his fingers in his brother's face. "You with us man?"

Dean mentally shook himself, realizing that he'd been sitting there like a slack-jawed yokel staring at Buffy's lips for who knows how long. He blinked exaggeratedly a couple of times and turned on Sam.

"You blinded me with that stupid-ass flash," he said. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Just making some vacation pictures," Sam shrugged innocently. "I think I'll send this one to Bobby. I'm sure he wonders how the trip is going."

"I _will_ end you," Dean threatened. "You better give me that phone."

"Can't do it, man," Sam smirked. "These are precious memories. Priceless. You just can't replace this stuff. "

"Would you two stop it?" Buffy interrupted, using a mock stern voice and placing her hand on Dean's knee. "No fighting at the table."

"We're not fighting. Sam's too scared," Dean said, turning to Buffy with a smile - acutely aware of the warmth of her small hand through his jeans. Sam snorted at his comment, but Dean ignored him and focused on how pretty Buffy's eyes were instead. One second they were green, then gold, then a mixture of both… and those lips… _wow_. He wondered if she had any idea of the X-rated thoughts those lips inspired.

As if in answer to his thoughts, Buffy smiled and gave his knee a light squeeze before directing her attention to her drink. Dean had never considered the life of a straw before, but right now he was pretty damn sure he'd be willing to trade places.

XXXXXXXXXX

Dawn had obviously gotten something out of the one drink, because she was even louder and more talkative than usual.

Buffy was also feeling a tiny bit of a buzz herself. She didn't drink often, so it didn't take much. As the meal progressed, she'd found herself sitting closer and closer to Dean. She wasn't entirely sure if she was responsible for that or if it had been a joint effort.

"So," Dawn said dramatically, "the curtain comes up and practically the entire world is sitting in the audience waiting for the show to start…. and there's Buffy standing by herself on the stage looking like a huge dork, cradling that stupid dummy. I was so embarrassed. Of course, at the time I thought she was just a juvenile delinquent who got kicked out of school a lot."

"I didn't get kicked out of school a lot," Buffy replied in her defense. "It was only twice and both times it was a total miscarriage of justice."

Dean frowned and took a pull of his second beer. "That poor bastard," he said solemnly.

"Yeah," Sam agreed, also sounding a little somber.

Buffy looked at the brother's faces and said, "I don't think they enjoyed that story, Dawn."

"Well, they wanted to know about your adventures with other hunters," her sister shrugged. "And you gotta admit that was a doozy."

"If that ever happens to me-" Dean began.

"Don't worry," Sam interrupted nodding. "Salt-n-burn. I got you. You just have to promise to return the favor."

"I don't know," Dean said, grinning a little. "It might be kinda fun to have a little wooden puppet-Sam around. I bet we could earn a lot of money out on the club circuit."

"I'm sure," his brother replied sarcastically before turning his attention to Buffy. "Hey, Buffy, I was wondering. Do you know what Cas meant when he called you the _'original'_ Slayer? I thought that was some pretty odd wording, even for him."

"Oh," Buffy replied. "I guess they haven't updated the reference books yet. It's kind of a long story, but here goes… A couple years ago, the Hellmouth got extra mouthy, so a friend of mine did this spell and presto - we now have beaucoups of Slayers. _That's French for 'a lot'_," Buffy clarified. "I took it in high school and that's pretty much the only word I remember. So I use it whenever I can."

"There are more Slayers out there?" Dean asked, sounding rather shocked.

"Yeah," Dawn said, "but Buffy's the queen since she's like waaay older and she's been one the longest."

"Thank you, Dawn," Buffy replied dryly. "We all know I'm getting ancient. I hear that when I turn twenty-five, the Council is going to take me out back and shoot me."

"So, you're in charge of all the other Slayers?" Sam asked curiously, he seemed to fixated on this new information to care about Buffy and Dawn's banter.

"Not really," Buffy replied. "We have this Watcher's Council that's in charge of, well, _watching _the Slayers. It was like this ancient group of stuffy old men in tweed. During all the wackiness that ensued back in '09, they kinda got blown up.

Sam winced and glanced at Dean. '09 was definitely the same year he'd popped Lucifer's cage.

"So," Buffy continued, "we've been working on rebuilding a new, improved, and less tweedy Council ever since. _Well, _except for Giles, of course. He used to be my Watcher and now he's like the Mayor McCheese of Watcherville. He's still tweedy, but he's good tweedy. Anyway," she shrugged, "my job is to train all of the new Slayers that pop up in our little corner of the world. We have a couple dozen right now. We're setting up schools in other countries too, but those are headed by other Slayers."

"Damn," Dean commented, still looking stunned. "You ladies just might put us hunters out of a job."

"No such luck," Buffy replied, leaning her head against Dean's shoulder, enjoying the scent of his aftershave. "It's like we can barely keep up with the action on the Hellmouth, much less police the entire country. The only reason I even got this vacation is because it's normally a little slower during the summer. Plus, I laid some serious pleading on my Slayer friend Faith. I finally convinced her to fill in for me for a couple weeks. Otherwise, I'd still be stuck in the lovely city of Cleveland. Anyway, haven't you guys noticed that all the fangs have gotten extra fangy?" she asked curiously.

Dean took another draw off his beer, leaving his brother to reply. "Yeah," Sam agreed, attempting to keep his voice casual. "Things have been kinda busy."

"The recession completely missed the demon business," Buffy commented. "But at least we have job security," she added cheerfully.

"I'll drink to that," Dean agreed.

"Can you let me out?" Buffy asked Dean. "Dawn and I need to go to the little girl's room."

"Yeah," Dawn agreed. "We'd be breaking several international laws if we didn't go together."

The Winchesters both stood up so that the sisters could get out of the booth. Dean waited a few minutes to ensure that the coast was clear before he began speaking in a hushed voice. He wasn't quite sure how powerful Buffy's super hearing was.

"This blows," Dean said, "we didn't even know the Slayer existed and we still managed to screw up her life."

"Don't start that crap, Dean," Sam said. "I'm tired of us blaming ourselves for all the misery in the world."

"Well, if the shoe fits…"

"I'm not so sure that it does," Sam said firmly. "I know I've pulled some pretty serious crap and believe me, I hold myself very responsible for every bad decision I made, but I still don't blame myself for everything and you sure as hell shouldn't either. Cut yourself some slack, man. We've spent our entire lives being pawns for players that are a _way_ above our pay grade. They were the ones jonesing for an apocalypse, not us. We were just unlucky enough to be their chosen chess pieces. If it hadn't been us, they would have found somebody else. So, to hell with them all, because we don't play with their rulebook anymore."

"Whoa, Sammy," Dean said raising his beer glass in a mock toast. "You were totally wailin' on that E_ye of the Tiger_ moment."

"Screw you," Sam said. "I'm just trying to get you to quit being such a buzzkill and concentrate on the beautiful woman who's obviously crazy enough to be interested in your scraggly ass."

"Dude," Dean said, "did we switch bodies or something? Because that totally sounded like something I'd say."

"See what I mean," Sam stressed. "You've gotten so bad, that I have to stoop to encouraging your debauchery. It's completely unnatural."

"It's just a weird situation," Dean said, turning serious again. "I'm not sure how to read her. I mean, it's not like she's some prudish virgin. Cause, what the hell would I do with one of those? But she's different from the women I usually hook-up with. You know, the ones who have the opinion that sex is fun - so why the hell not_?_ Don't get me wrong, Sammy, I deeply support and respect that position. Hell, if I was a woman, I'd probably be the easiest chick ever born. Of course, I'd be a hot lesbian-"

"Sure you would, Dean," Sam interrupted quickly, afraid he'd be subjected to the graphic details of his brother's imaginary life as a lesbian sex addict. "I know what you're getting at. For one thing, I can tell you really like this girl. Plus, Buffy's probably not the one-night stand type and I know you don't think you're allowed to have anything else. But you may be surprised. Her life is a lot like ours, so it's not like you have to hide anything from her. I just think you should relax and let things take their natural course. You know, enjoy each other's company and don't tell her any outrageous lies. Besides, I'm pretty sure she's already aware that you're not a talent scout for a modeling agency."

Dean drained his beer in one large swallow. "This is embarrassing," he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "I can't believe we're even having this conversation. This is your dream come true, ain't it? The two of us acting like a couple of high school chicks deciding if they should go to second base."

"Of course it is," Sam agreed sarcastically. "Now if I can just score some tickets to see Justin Bieber, I can die a happy man."

XXXXXXXXXX

"What am I doing?" Buffy asked her sister.

"Peeing." Dawn answered.

"You know what I mean," Buffy said as she turned on the tap to wash her hands. "I'm talking about me and Dean and whatever the heck is going on with that."

"Seems pretty simple to me. You have the hots for each other. So, naturally, you're both making with the sexual tension. _By the way_, I think you should get that taken care of before Dean explodes."

"It's not that simple. I don't … I just met him, okay. I mean, sure, almost getting eaten together tends to move a relationship along, but that still doesn't make it okay to just jump into bed with him."

"Why not?" Dawn asked. "You're a grown woman. If you want to, there's no reason you shouldn't. This isn't Victorian England you know."

"I just can't do a one-night stand," Buffy admitted. "I'm not trying to be all judgy. Hell, sometimes I really wish I could be more like Faith. You know, sex with no strings attached. But I just can't manage it. I'm mushy, emotional-involvement girl. I end up all crushed and weepy if they don't call me the next day. I can't help it… and I can't believe I'm telling you this."

"I'm glad you are," Dawn said. "I wish you would talk to me about more things. I'm not twelve anymore. I can have a mature adult conversation, _believe it or not_."

"I know, but you'll always be my little sister. I feel like I'm corrupting you if I talk about sex."

"Good God. Maybe you do live in Victorian England. I just don't get you sometimes, Buffy. Just chill out and do what _you_ want to do. If that means you don't sleep together, then don't sleep together. But I think you should at least give the guy a chance before you decide to totally blow him off. What makes you think that he only wants a one-night stand anyway? Personally, I think you two are kinda perfect together. For one thing, he knows you're a freak and doesn't seem to care. _Hey_, the guy's pretty freaky himself and he also has the major bonus of actually having a heartbeat. So, go with the flow. Talk to him about it if you feel like you need to, but you sure as hell can't hide out in here all night. Finish fussing with your make-up and let's get the hell back out there."

XXXXXXXXXX

Dean was watching as Buffy and Dawn made their way back from the bathroom. A couple of guys sitting at the bar had shown a great deal of interest in their backsides on their way in and Dean was curious to see if they'd try to start anything when they came back out.

Apparently, they were trying, because both of the sisters were rolling their eyes and he saw Buffy's lips move, delivering what he assumed was a stinging brush off. He didn't plan on getting involved unless things got out of hand, since Buffy could obviously take care of herself and it would be hilarious to watch her hand these clowns their asses. But then he saw something that made him see red. As the sisters had walked past the two jerk-offs, one of them had reached out and grabbed Dawn's ass while the other grabbed Buffy on the left shoulder and spun her around (apparently he didn't handle rejection well). Dean could tell from the expression on Buffy's face that the guy had grabbed her right on the spot where the arrow wound was. Those assholes had signed their death warrants.

"Sam," Dean said as he jumped up from his seat. "It's bar brawl time, brother."

"Okay," Sam said nonchalantly, as he rose from his seat as well. He hadn't seen what was going on, but this wouldn't be the first time he'd joined in a bar fight just because his brother was in on it. "I just hope nobody hits me in the nose this time," he sighed.


	16. Chapter 16

Pendejo – is a Spanish word that basically means 'jackass', at least in Mexico and parts of Texas.

XXXXXXXXXX

Chapter 16

The guy who had attempted to manhandle Buffy looked like a former high school football player who had since gone doughy. He was well over 250 pounds, but the Slayer easily picked him up one-handed and slammed his entire body onto the top of the bar.

Chips, salsa, and beer went flying everywhere and the patrons sitting nearby all jumped back to avoid the mess. She held him down by the neck, her hair dripping with spilled beer, and proceeded to lambast him with a running monologue of complaints. The Winchesters, however, were only able to catch a few words.

"Rude… stupid jerk… supposed to be on vacation…"

Dawn had given her groper a solid punch to the gut and was now giving the breathless man a little speech of her own, although the language she used was a little saltier than the Slayer's. To emphasize her point, she ended her tirade by bringing up her knee and quite possibly ruining the man's chances of ever creating any little jerks of his own.

Both of the Winchesters groaned in unison and instinctively shielded their own crotches with their hands.

"Damn!" Dean exclaimed. "That chick is ruthless."

"No doubt," Sam agreed with a wince. "Don't take this the wrong way, dude, but whose side are we supposed to be fighting on here?"

Dean didn't answer his brother immediately; he was too busy enjoying watching Buffy crack the back of her guy's skull against the surface of the bar. "Hell yeah!" he exclaimed. "Shamu just got owned!" Then with obvious disappointment he added, "I guess you have a point. We better pull the ladies off those dickweeds before they do any permanent damage."

To get to the action, the brothers had to push their way through the growing crowd of curious bystanders and displaced bar patrons. Once they made it to the front, a couple of large Neanderthal-looking men stepped in front of them (most likely ex-linebackers from the handsy-boys' old team).

Both were huge. One had sandy blond hair and the face of a bulldog, which probably had a lot to do with having his nose broken a few too many times. The other had a darker complexion and longish hair that was slicked back into a short ponytail. He probably thought it made him appear cool, but with his huge round face and massive bulk he looked more like a sumo wrestler wannabe.

"Hold up there pretty boy," the smush-nosed man said, putting one of his giant, meaty hands against Dean's chest. "You need to just mind your own business," he warned. "My guys are having a little chat with the ladies."

"From over here it looks like they're getting their asses kicked," Dean replied with a smirk.

"But, hey," Sam added with a shrug, _"Semantics_."

"Huh?" Smush Nose said, squaring his shoulders and glaring at Sam. "You a college boy or somethin' smartass?"

"Somethin'," Sam answered coolly. "I did make it past _See Spot Run_."

That was enough for Smush Nose. He threw a wild right hook which Sam easily ducked before jabbing his fist into the man's sizeable beer-gut.

"Good job, Sammy," Dean said gleefully as he popped his knuckles and prepared to tear into Neanderthal number two. "Looks like I get a bar brawl after all."

"You're welcome," Sam replied just as he was tackled by a growling Smush-Nose.

The Summers girls had finished with the gropey-twins. Dawn's was still doubled over clutching his privates and Buffy's was looking extremely dazed. Maybe she had slammed his head against the bar a little harder than she intended, but that's what happens when you get grab-happy with a Slayer.

The man was trying desperately to look nonchalant as he struggled to climb down off the bar. His efforts to appear cool, however, were severely hampered by the chips and salsa embedded in his hair.

"I better break this up," Buffy said as she watched Dean deliver a crunching blow to his opponents jaw – only to have the man simply spit blood onto the floor and charge at the hunter like an oversized, angry bull.

"Are you crazy?" Dawn replied. "They're trying to be all chivalrous for us. Enjoy the show."

Buffy cringed at the punch Dean had just taken, he was definitely going to have a black eye. "But I don't want Sumo Joe to bash in Dean's face," she pouted. "I like his face. Plus, look at Sam," she said, pointing to where the younger brother was being held face-down in a puddle of beer, his arm wrenched painfully behind him. "I'm fairly sure an arm isn't supposed to bend at that angle."

Sam's arm definitely wasn't meant to bend at that angle. He groaned in agony as he felt his right shoulder pop out of the socket. No matter how many times that happened, it still hurt like hell. He threw back his head and managed to catch Smush Nose on the chin, causing him to lose his grip. Sam took the distraction as an opportunity to roll left and regain his footing.

"See," Dawn said, indicating Sam. "They can handle themselves. Plus, you gotta admit that this is kinda hot. It was always cool to watch Spike and Angel work their fancy jujitsu and all, but there's something about this that's just… _I don't know_…"

"Raw, messy, blunt-force violence?"

"That's it! Dawn said smiling. "I like it."

"You're sick," Buffy replied, although secretly she did sort of agree. Actually she more than agreed. The whole scene was smokin' hot, especially Dean. The punch had only seemed to encourage him and now he was all out wailing on his guy, using both fists to pummel him anywhere he could land a punch. The other man was still on his feet and holding his own, after all, he was a behemoth, but his size did make him a lot slower, enabling Dean to both avoid and land more punches.

"_Oh please_," Dawn said. "Check out Ass Grabber. He's trying to pull the old broken beer bottle trick. That's not even original."

"I don't think so," Buffy said angrily as she ran toward the guy. She reached up with her left arm (she was definitely going to feel that in the morning) and grabbed the wrist that held the bottle as the man attempted to sneak up behind Dean. "You really can't take a hint, can you?" she asked him, before giving him what she hoped was only a full-grown-man-sized right hook to the jaw. "And keep your hands off my sister!" she warned the now unconscious man.

Buffy whipped her head around at the sound of an angry bellow of pain. Judging from the blood that was gushing from Sam's nose, he'd taken another blow to that area and, _wow, _was he pissed. He actually looked pretty scary with all the blood and the crazy in his eyes. She watched as the younger Winchester stalked after his opponent, his right arm dangling uselessly at his side. It looked like good old Sam had morphed into the Incredible Hulk. Buffy was suddenly a little worried about Smush Nose.

Sam caught the guy by the front of his shirt and buried his knee into his stomach twice, before roughly shoving him backward into a barstool. The man's head struck the stool on the way down and his eyes immediately glazed over. He was either unconscious or quickly on his way there. Buffy decided it was time to bench Sam before Smush Nose ended up crippled (or worse).

Buffy walked up behind Sam and called his name a couple of times, but he didn't respond. So, she reached out and hooked her right arm around his waist and literally drug him across the room to where Dawn was standing. It had to have been one of the more bizarre things any of the spectators had ever seen. Sam was leaning forward, trying to get back to his prey, while the tiny blond girl pulled him effortlessly across the floor. As if he was nothing more than a tiny toddler pitching a temper tantrum.

"Sit," Buffy ordered, pushing Sam down into a chair. "And stay there," she warned sternly when he started to get back up. "I'm putting a stop to this nonsense before somebody winds up in the hospital." She then turned and started across the room toward Dean, a determined look on her face.

Dean's opponent had just checked out of the game. He lay on the floor either knocked out, or pretending to be. However, the brain of Buffy's original assailant had finally un-fogged enough for him to try and rejoin the party. It appeared that he'd decided to gain back some of his macho street-cred by attempting to break a barstool across Dean's back. Dean must have heard the guy coming and managed to turn in time to catch the stool, but the Slayer was faster and snatched the stool away first, throwing it forcefully to the floor where it broke into what looked like a thousand tiny pieces.

Shamu gave Buffy a wide-eyed look. He was obviously not looking forward to tangling with her again. "You're not the brightest bulb are you?" she asked the guy. "Maybe we need another lesson on why you shouldn't sneak up behind people."

"Look, lady," Shamu replied, holding up his hands in surrender. "I think we have a misunderstanding here. I didn't mean to offend you. I was just trying to talk. But you better back off now," he said with forced bravado, "because I don't wanna have to hit a girl."

"Then try and hit me, bitch," Dean said with a menacing grin. Shamu turned toward Dean, looking very relieved to have a different opponent.

"Dean," Buffy said sharply. "That's enough!"

Much like his brother, Dean wasn't paying any attention to the Slayer's attempt to end the brawl. The Winchester's were apparently a lot like pit bulls once they had latched onto a fight. Buffy found herself forming an amusing mental picture of her spraying Dean with a water hose.

The big man shoved Dean hard, probably hoping to knock him off his feet, but he managed to grab onto the bar top with one hand and keep his balance. He then brought his other fist around and smashed it into the guy's face, knocking him into the bar. Shamu cupped his hands over his nose, but a good amount of blood still managed to trickle out from between his fingers. At least Sam would be glad to know that he wasn't the only one with a broken nose this time.

Buffy had to admit that it was satisfying to see the jerk getting his clock cleaned (again), but this whole scene had gotten way out of hand. Since there was no water hose handy, she was just going to have to physically drag Dean away if she wanted to put an end to this mess. She reached out a hand to grab him, but suddenly froze when she heard the unmistakable sound of a shotgun being pumped.

She turned to see a middle-aged Hispanic man in a cowboy hat pointing the barrel at Dean. The man was easily as big as the largest of the four football players and he didn't look pleased.

Dean held his hands in the air and pasted on his best bullshit grin before taking a couple steps sideways to shield Buffy from the gun barrel. The Slayer glared at Dean's back – the man was unbelievable.

"We don't want any trouble, man," Dean said, trying to sound friendly and agreeable. "Just point that thing somewhere else and we'll get out of your hair. I'll even kick in a few extra bucks for the trouble."

"Boy, you better just keep those hands where I can see 'em," the man said in what sounded like a thick Texas accent. He didn't look at all impressed with Dean's sudden folksy act. "And don't even think about goin' for that piece you're carrying."

"You brought a gun?" Buffy snapped at Dean. "To eat tacos? _Seriously?"_

"Uh. Maybe?" Dean answered a little sheepishly, still smiling at the man holding the shotgun. "Can't we talk about this later?" he asked, not daring to break eye contact with the gunman.

Buffy started to open her mouth to tell him just what she thought about that when Cowboy Man spoke up again.

"Tommy," he said, never taking his eyes off Dean. "You better get your boys and get the hell on outta here before I call the cops."

Tommy, as it turned out, was the real name of Shamu, the guy who had helped to start the entire fiasco by putting his hands on Buffy's injured shoulder. He immediately gave up on attempting to stem the blood coming from his nose and went to try and rouse Smush Nose. "I'm sorry, Rick," he said petulantly, apparently speaking to the man with the gun while he shook his friend. "We didn't start it."

"That's a giant crock of shit and you know it!" Dawn exclaimed. "If you and that baby rhinoceros you call a friend knew how to keep your slimy hands-"

"Dawn," Sam warned quietly, pulling her back by the shirt tail. "This isn't the best time."

"I know who started it," Rick stated angrily, addressing Tommy. "I'm tired of warning you pendejos. Now ya'll get the hell out and don't come back. Ever."

Tommy/Shamu managed to rouse his three pals and the four sheepishly stumbled out the front door, using one another as crutches.

"Now," Rick said, "you four are gonna hang out a minute or two until those idiots are gone. There's not gonna be a round two on my property."

"Yes, sir," Dean answered respectfully.

Rick just shook his head at Dean and took a couple steps to the side so that he could see Buffy. "Young lady," he began, "you need to lay off the el diablitos."

"The el d'who?" Buffy said, sounding extremely puzzled.

"The joints laced with coke and PCP," he said impatiently. "I don't know what you kids call it these days, but I can tell you're on it. Those things ruined my cousin's life and you better think about cleanin' yourself up before it's too late."

Dean snorted a laugh, which obviously didn't please the gunman. If he'd been able to see Buffy's face, however, he would have seen some genuine fury. She couldn't believe that Dean saw anything even remotely funny about her being held at gunpoint and accused of being a drug fiend.

"Okay," Rick said after a couple of minutes. "Ya'll can go now. But I don't wanna see you back in here. Just be glad you're not spending the night in jail."

"Yes, sir," Dean said again, still trying to turn on the charm.

"Son, you better just keep those hands where I can see 'em," Rick said coldly.

The group cautiously began making their way toward the door. Sam turned around and held his hands up. "I'm not armed," he said. "I'm just going to get my wallet out."

Rick watched the younger Winchester suspiciously while he cautiously pulled out his wallet. He had a wad of small bills and two hundreds in there. He pulled out the hundreds and tossed them onto the nearest table top. Rick seemed to look a little more relaxed after that, but continued to urge the group forward with the shotgun.

Dawn suddenly squalled loudly and knelt to the floor. Thankfully, Rick didn't have an itchy trigger finger or Dean would have had a hole blown through his back.

"Dawn!" Buffy exclaimed through gritted teeth. "What are you doing?"

"It's my phone," she said sadly. "It's dead."

Buffy glanced down quickly to see her sister cradling her new iPhone on her outstretched palms. It was indeed deceased. Most of its guts were hanging out and the display was completely smashed. It must have fallen out of Dawn's purse and gotten crushed in all the chaos.

"Willow gave it to me for graduation," she pouted.

"It's tragic," Buffy said tightly, "but the funeral will have to wait."

XXXXXXXXXX

They all managed to make it to the parking lot without getting blasted with buckshot. There was also no sign of the four they'd been fighting with, so that was another bonus in Buffy's book. She wouldn't put it past Dean to start things up again.

"So, what now?" Dean asked happily.

Buffy just stared at him, her mouth agape. What the hell did he mean_, 'what now'?_

"Dean," Sam said. "I need you to pop my shoulder back in."

"Oh hell," his brother replied. "I didn't know you got your shoulder dislocated again."

"Lucky me," Sam said, his voice strained with pain.

"Okay," Dean said, grabbing his brother's elbow. "You know the drill, just try to relax… on three."

Sam let out a sharp cry of agony. "Dammit Dean, you didn't even make it to one!"

"Sorry man, it works best when you're surprised, so I had to shake it up a bit."

Sam frowned at his brother, but still looked very relieved to have his shoulder back where it was supposed to be.

"You okay?" Dean asked him sincerely.

"I'm fine," he answered with a sigh. "But I think I've had my nose busted enough for one lifetime."

Dean grabbed his brother by the jaw and turned Sam's head from side-to-side while he examined his nose. "We're probably gonna have to break it again just make it look right," Dean said sympathetically.

"How 'bout we save that for another day," Sam replied tiredly.

"You got it," Dean said, patting his brother on the back. "Sorry, Sammy."

"So," Dean said, turning back to Buffy. "Did you wanna check out the sports bar down the road? They have pool tables."

"Have you lost your mind?" Buffy snapped. "I'm not going anywhere. Look at my hair!"

The Slayer's hair was a little flat and damp on one side, but as far as Dean was concerned she still looked gorgeous. "You look beautiful," Dean said. "Come on, it's not a big deal. If you're that worried about it, I'm sure we can find you a comb."

Buffy suddenly had the overwhelming urge to blacken his other eye. She didn't need anyone to tell her whose brilliant idea it had been to start an all-out brawl. She and Dawn had it covered, but 'no' he just had to jump in and start some macho throw-down. _Granted, he did look extremely hot in a fight._ But she was in no mood to be fair. She'd been having a great night. She had gotten to go out and have dinner with a gorgeous guy. One who breathed and ate actual food. And, for once, she didn't have to try to make awkward small talk and worry about slipping up and saying something that would make her sound insane. But now it was all ruined, because she looked like crap, her shoulder hurt a little, and poor Sam looked like someone had put him through a meat grinder. _And oh yeah, Dean brought a gun to dinner!_ The two handsy Cro-Magnon idiots were really the ones to blame for all of this, but they weren't here to punch and dammit Buffy was frustrated. She had planned on at least getting some smoochies out of this. The universe was against her.

In the end, she settled for simply giving Dean a death-glare and judging from the confused look on his face, Dean had no idea why Buffy suddenly wanted to dismember him. Dawn, however, saw this as a golden opportunity to push the two together. She stepped between them and made a big show of examining her sister's shoulder.

"Oh, Buffy," she said dramatically, "you're bleeding."

Buffy looked at her sister strangely - trying to figure out what she was up to, but Dawn avoided eye contact. It was true that there was a tiny bit of blood that had seeped through the gauze and created a small stain on Buffy's blouse. It wasn't a big deal, but Dawn had already figured out how to work Dean.

"That sorry bastard!" Dean growled. "I wish I knew what he was drivin', cause I'd hunt him down and finish beating his ass."

Dawn tried not to smile. This man was way too easy. It was almost unfair for her to use her powers on him.

"I think you've reached your quota on ass-beatings for one night," Buffy said crossly.

"Well," Dawn said to her sister, "I think Dean better take you back to the hotel and get you bandaged up again." She then quickly reached into her sister's purse and snagged her car keys. "Sam and I will probably just head down to that sports bar, because we're not ready to call it a night yet. _Are we Sam?"_ Dawn asked, giving the younger Winchester a wide-eyed look that she hoped he'd take as a hint.

"Uh…no?" Sam lied awkwardly.

"Good," Dawn stated brightly. "We'll be off then. Just remember, you'll have to call Sam if you need to reach me." She then grabbed Sam by the elbow and started steering him quickly toward Buffy's Camaro, which was parked a little farther down the lot than the Impala. "Just keep walking," she whispered to Sam, "and no matter what happens, don't stop."

"Okay," Sam agreed uncertainly, his eyes wide with shock.

"Dawn!" Buffy called out. "What do you think you're doing? I never said you could drive my car."

"Bye, Buffy," her sister said cheerily. "I'll catch up with you later. I hope your shoulder feels better soon." Dawn hit the automatic unlock button on her sister's key chain and addressed Sam again quietly. "Hurry up and get in," she said, "Buffy can run unnaturally fast when she wants to." Sam looked extremely unsure, but for some reason he found himself being swept along in the whirlwind that was Dawn.

"Dawn," Buffy called out again. "No more drinking," she warned. She'd decided to just give up on stopping her. There had been too much craziness today, her brain was starting to shut down.

"Okay," her sister answered with a wave.

"Hey, Sam," Dean called out. "Maybe you can show Dawn how to hustle pool. I bet she'd be a natural."

"How about _not_," Buffy replied sharply.

Sam had barely gotten the door shut and had no chance to move the seat back before Dawn started backing the car up. "Good," Dawn said, "she's focused on wanting to kill your brother again, but we better hurry and get out of here before she catches on and tries to stop us."

"Do we really have to go to the sports bar?" Sam asked, still staring at Dawn in amazement.

"No," Dawn said. "I just wanted to give those two some full-frontal alone time. My sister is way too big of a weenie to handle these things on her own. She needs me," Dawn stated smugly. "But don't stress. We'll just go back to your room and get you some ice for that shoulder. Maybe there's something good on pay-per-view."

"Full-frontal alone time?" Sam repeated incredulously. "Are you serious? I think she wants to break his neck."

"They can have angry sex then," Dawn stated casually. "I hear that can be really fun."

Sam just shook his head and started laughing. Dawn had to know her sister better than he did, so if she thought Dean was relatively safe, then he'd go along with her. He kind of had to. She really knew how to pull a fast one. He'd have to ask her if she'd ever considered being a lawyer.


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: Okay ya'll disclaimer time.

1. I still don't own the characters

2. The FDA frowns upon the sharing of prescriptions for controlled substances.

3. There are some adult-type situations included in this chapter. My beta-reader (isugirl) agrees that nothing is outside the bounds of the story rating.

XXXXXXXXXX

Buffy cringed and covered her ears the moment Dean turned the key in the Impala's ignition.

"Sorry about that," he called out loudly, in an attempt to be heard over the blaring sounds of _Ramble On_. With a nervous laugh, Dean quickly reached to cut the volume on his stereo. "I was just rockin' out to some Zeppelin earlier. You gotta love Page's guitar riffs… _or not_," he added after taking in the Slayer's sour expression. "Did I do something to piss you off?" he asked, sounding genuinely puzzled.

"What do you think?" Buffy asked in exasperation. "You just got us escorted out of a restaurant at gunpoint. _Gunpoint_!" she exclaimed, repeating the word for emphasis.

"How's that my fault?" Dean asked defensively. "I didn't start that fight."

"No, but you're a pot-stirrer," Buffy said, pointing her finger accusingly.

"You're a _pot smoker_," Dean joked, "but you don't see me gettin' my boxers in a twist over it."

"That's so not amusing," the Slayer huffed. "You made things ten-gazillion times worse in there. If you'd left it up to me, it would've all been over in ten seconds. Then we could've had dessert. I wanted some fried ice cream," she added sullenly.

"What makes you so sure that I was the one that stirred things up, anyway?" Dean asked, sounding like he was honestly offended. "Sam threw the first punch you know." _Sorry bro, desperate times._

"Right," Buffy said, sounding skeptical, "and I'm sure you didn't encourage him… Oh, and he totally went Mr. Hyde by the way."

"Well, I seem to remember you using that killer whale to wipe down the bar top."

"That's different," Buffy emphasized. "I was _personally_ offended."

"I was personally offended, too," Dean countered. "I don't appreciate seeing women being treated that way." He then added a little hesitantly, "especially not a woman I happen to be out with."

Buffy felt a small thrill of triumph at the last statement, but still wasn't willing to let him off the hook so easily. "I am the Slayer you know," she replied firmly. "I can take care of myself and Dawn."

"I never said you couldn't. Hell, that thing you did with the barstool was a work of art. I think old Shamu might've pissed his pants a little."

Buffy couldn't help but crack a small smile at the memory of the look on the jerk's face after she'd snatched the barstool away from him and smashed it into a mound of toothpicks. That had been super satisfying.

"Anyway," Dean continued, "I couldn't just sit there watching with my thumb up my ass. If I'd done that, my old man woulda come back from the dead _just_ to tear me a new one. Sam and I weren't raised to stand by and watch a lady get groped by a couple of drunk dickheads. No matter how big a badass she is."

_Checkmate_, Buffy thought. _The crafty devil got me._ He just had to go and pull out the infamous chivalrous-dead-dad-defense. She should have seen it coming. There was no known counter-defense against that one. Her dad was neither chivalrous nor dead… unless you count _deadbeat_. Now she was just sad… Both of his parents were dead. At least her father was still alive somewhere, plus she had Giles. She didn't know if Dean had anyone besides Sam. _No - must resist._ She couldn't let him off without at least getting her point across about that stupid gun of his.

"Was it absolutely necessary to bring a gun to dinner?" she asked. "Were you going to shoot the waiter if he mixed up our order?"

Dean smirked. "Okay then, miss non-violence, fifty bucks says you have at least one weapon in that suitcase you call a purse."

"I may have a bottle of holy water and a stake," Buffy answered, "but that's a whole other issue."

"How is that a _whole other issue?_"

"Because, obviously, my weapons are for killing non-person thingies. I know you have enough experience to realize that a gun only pisses those types off."

"Not when the bullets are consecrated iron," Dean replied smugly. "I have silver ones, too," he added, "but I only bring those out for special occasions."

"Oh," Buffy said, trying desperately to think of a good comeback. "Well, I don't like guns," she finally stated.

"Sorry, sweetheart, it's a nasty gig."

"Thanks for the newsflash," the Slayer said sarcastically. Just how many westerns and gritty cop dramas had this man seen, anyway?Sometimes he was like a walking one-liner.

"Come on, Buffy, cut me a break," Dean appealed, giving her his most charming smile. "Don't be mad. You know you enjoyed that fight a little. Go on, admit it. I won't think any less of you."

Buffy softened a bit and returned his smile. "It had its moments," she admitted grudgingly. "But has anybody ever told you that you're a little too full of yourself?" she asked.

"Those people were just jealous," he replied as he backed the Impala out of its spot. Dean was feeling happy and relaxed again now that Buffy seemed to be thawing out. "So, which way to your hotel?" he asked.

"Take a left… no, make that a right. _That way_," she said pointing.

"So, how exactly do you fry ice cream?" Dean asked as he turned the Impala onto the road. "That doesn't seem possible. Wouldn't it just melt?"

"I'm pretty sure there's some heavy duty witchcraft involved, but _totally _the good kind," Buffy emphasized.

"We might be able to find another place that serves it," Dean offered. "If you feel like it," he added, giving a glance to her shoulder.

"That's okay," Buffy replied sincerely, impressed by Dean's thoughtfulness. "The room service menu at the hotel has this sundae that sounds like it should be completely illegal. Maybe we can get one of those?"

"That sounds like a great idea," Dean said happily, nodding his head in agreement.

The Slayer closed her eyes, leaned her head against the seatback and breathed in the oddly comforting smell of leather and gunpowder that permeated the Impala. Cautious-Buffy was hissing at her for inviting the hunter to her room, but she was determined to ignore her. In fact, if cautious-Buffy didn't shut up, the Slayer just may have to smother her_._

XXXXXXXXXX

Sam opened the door to his motel room at the sound of Dawn mumbling something unintelligible and kicking the bottom of the door.

Dawn swept into the room, somehow managing to balance a bucket of ice, a couple of sodas, and an armful of various junk foods from the snack machine. She was also clinching a bag of salt-n-vinegar potato chips between her teeth.

"You're still hungry?" Sam asked in amazement, as he helped to relieve the girl of her burdens by sitting them on top of the dresser.

"I like to have an after dinner snack," she shrugged. "So which do you want, Coke or Fanta Grape?"

"Coke," Sam answered quickly.

"Good, cause the Fanta's mine," Dawn smiled. "Grape soda is highly underrepresented in the soft drink industry."

"If you say so," Sam replied as he watched the girl critically appraise the room. It was kind of messy. The bedspreads had been pulled up, but not very neatly, and there were various fast food wrappers, empty soft drink cups, and beer bottles sitting on every available surface.

"I think you should complain about the maid service," Dawn suggested. "Assuming there is one."

Sam frowned in embarrassment and snatched up a few of the empty wrappers that were within his reach and tossed them in the trash. "We don't let them in," he explained. "They might see something they shouldn't and we can't risk a visit from the police."

"You two seem to worry about the cops an awful lot," Dawn observed, amusement in her voice. "It's almost like you're dangerous criminals or something."

"We've been accused a few times," Sam admitted, "but it's not quite as bad now that we're both officially dead."

"I can see how that would be helpful," Dawn agreed, her gaze still searching the room. "Here we go," she said picking up an empty plastic grocery bag. "This will work."

"For what?" Sam asked curiously.

"I'm making you an improvised, emergency icepack," Dawn explained. "Just give me a minute."

Dawn proceeded to dump the contents of the ice bucket into the grocery bag and tied it off tightly at the top. She then disappeared into the bathroom to find a towel to wrap it in. When she returned, Sam was attempting to pull a clean t-shirt over his head, but was obviously having trouble due to the stiffness in his shoulder.

"Let me help," Dawn said, setting the icepack aside and tugging Sam's shirt down over his torso.

"Thanks," Sam replied, feeling a little uncomfortable with the close contact. It wasn't like he hadn't noticed Dawn was a girl. He sat on the bed furthest from the door and carefully leaned back against the headboard with a groan.

"Here," Dawn said, holding out a couple of pills on her outstretched palm. "Take these. They should make you feel better."

"What are they?" Sam asked cautiously.

"Vicodin, Dr. House's favorite poison. I saw a bottle sticking out of your brother's travel bag on the bathroom counter. I'm sure he won't mind if you take some."

"He won't," Sam agreed, "but I'm not sure if I should."

"Take them," Dawn ordered. "I'm sure if you'd gone to an actual hospital instead of letting your brother play parking lot triage, you would've gotten the good stuff anyway."

"You probably have a point," Sam relented, taking the offered pills and washing them down with a swallow of Coke.

Dawn smiled triumphantly and pressed the icepack against Sam's shoulder before grabbing the remote and climbing onto the other side of the bed.

"I have to ask," she said, kicking of her sandals and stretching out her legs. "Do you think somebody let a crackhead loose with a paintbrush in here?"

Sam smiled. "The thought did cross my mind."

"Seriously," Dawn said, "I'm pretty sure that painting in the bathroom is possessed."

"You mean Pocahontas?" Sam asked with a laugh. "You should talk to Dean about that, he seems awfully convinced. I'm surprised he hasn't tried to set it on fire yet."

"I wouldn't be surprised if this whole motel had a hex on it," Dawn stated seriously. "I mean, did the people who decorated around here have any concept of political correctness? If I was a Native American, I'd definitely put a curse on this place."

"It is tacky." Sam agreed.

"So," Dawn said as she raised the remote. "What do you wanna watch? I think there might be a good UFC fight on pay-per-view."

"Anything but that," Sam groaned.

XXXXXXXXXX

"I'm so embarrassed," Buffy moaned as the hotel elevator began making its ascent to her floor. "I was hoping that guy would be off-duty by now. Doesn't he have a home to go to?"

"Who cares?" Dean said with a wave of his hand. "That dude has a lame-ass job anyway. I think he expected me to pay him for opening the door. I can open a damn door myself."

"You should've seen the look on his face when I came in earlier wearing that insane bundle of bloody t-shirts," Buffy confided. "And now… I come back smelling like a brewery and you have a gigantic black eye. Wow! I can't even imagine what he must be thinking."

"I think you smell great," Dean said as he leaned in and sniffed Buffy's beer-scented hair.

"You _would_ think that," Buffy said as she self-consciously fingered her hair. "Maybe, if you're lucky _Dior_ will start making beer-flavored perfume."

"Don't knock it," Dean said. "There just might be a market out there. You know, most of us guys only want a couple of things. If we could combine beer and girls, it would free up a lot of time for – _well_ - other stuff."

"You don't even know what that other stuff is, do you?" Buffy teased.

"I'd have to think about it," Dean admitted.

"Well, here we are," Buffy announced as she pushed open the door to her hotel suite. "Room sweet room."

"Damn," Dean said, looking around at the huge space in awe. "This place is killer."

The room would make at least three of the one he and Sam were currently sharing. It actually had a small foyer with a coat rack and umbrella stand. The foyer opened up into a living room with a huge flat-screen TV and a couch and loveseat. The décor was also extremely tasteful and everything was sparkling clean and new looking. Definitely a far cry from the places he usually stayed.

"Have a seat," Buffy offered, indicating the couch. "I'll be back in just a minute," she said as she hurried off toward the bathroom. She desperately needed to see how much damage her appearance had sustained.

She'd looked worse, she decided as she ran a brush through the tangles where her hair had gotten wet and dabbed at a smudge of mascara with a bit of wet tissue. She reached for her makeup bag, but ended up stopping herself. She didn't want to look like she was trying too hard.

When Buffy emerged from the restroom she noticed that Dean had already opened the first aid kit he'd brought up with him and laid out the contents on the coffee table. At the sound of her footsteps, he glanced up from where he was looking at his phone display.

"Did Sam call?" Buffy asked a little anxiously. She could just imagine her sister totaling her brand new car.

"Nah, it was just our friend Bobby. I hit 'ignore'. He probably just wants to bitch me out again for eating his last two slices of bologna. I'm not worried," Dean shrugged. "If it really is the end of the world, he can call Sam. Have a seat," he said, patting the cushion beside him. "As soon as I wash my hands, we'll take a look at the damage."

Buffy rolled her eyes at the authoritative tone in his voice. She supposed she may as well let him win this battle and allow him take a look at her shoulder. He seemed very determined. All thanks to Dawn's master plan, of course. Like she hadn't figured that one out by the time her sister had gone tearing out of the restaurant parking lot. If there was even one tiny scratch on her car, precious little Dawnie would be answering to the Slayer.

Buffy sat on the edge of the couch cushion and waited nervously for Dean to finish washing his hands. When he returned from the bathroom, he sat down beside her and faced her a little uncertainly. This whole first aid scene was a lot more intimate when they weren't surrounded by their siblings and a group of little kids.

Dean reached out and attempted to pull aside the neck of her blouse in order to get a closer look at the bandages. "This is going to have to come off," he said, surprisingly without a hint of innuendo.

_Thank goodness he's not openly making with the double entendres,_ Buffy thought. She was nervous enough as it was. She began to pull the blouse over her head, but was having a struggle with it due to the stiffness in her shoulder. Dean ended up brushing her hands aside and completing the task for her. There was no way she was going to look him in the eyes now. She was sure she had to be blushing bright red from head-to-toe.

_Keep it together man_, Dean warned himself internally. You've seen plenty of half-naked chicks before. Be a professional. No out-of-bounds touching. Just pretend she's Sam or something. _Dammit, that wasn't going to work. _There was no possible way his ginormous brother could ever rock a slinky little black number like the one Buffy was wearing - but at least the mental picture was hysterically absurd enough to distract his libido a little.

He took in a steadying breath, reminded himself not to let his eyes stray, and began trying to unravel the gauze that was wrapped around the Slayer's shoulder. He wasn't having much luck, however, because the dried blood was causing the bandages to stick together. He was afraid if he pulled too hard it would re-open the wound. He would have to soak the bandages a little. "I'll be right back," he said, rising from the couch and heading toward the bathroom. Buffy couldn't help but notice that his voice was even deeper than usual.

As soon as he was out of her sight, Buffy took a glance down at her chest. _Yep_, she confirmed, her camisole was every bit as revealing as she thought it would be. Cautious-Buffy was practically having a panic attack inside of her head , _and with good reason_. She highly doubted this night was going to end with them simply holding hands on the couch and watching the latest Sandra Bullock rom com.

Dean returned a moment later, a wet washcloth in hand. He wasn't making eye contact either, which made Buffy feel a little better. At least she wasn't the only one squirming. She watched as he sat the washcloth on the coffee table and picked up a pair of small surgical scissors that he'd laid out a few moments before.

"Try and keep still," he warned as he held the scissors up to her shoulder. "These little bastards are sharp as hell."

Buffy held herself steady as the scissors sliced through the bandages at the top of her shoulder. It only took a couple of seconds for the blades to cut through. Dean then picked up the washcloth again and squeezed a little water onto Buffy's shoulder before gently clamping the cloth against both sides of the wound.

He held the washcloth there for maybe a minute or two, but to both of them it felt like hours. Buffy was trying not to think about the droplets of water that were dripping from the washcloth onto her breast - making her feel like a contestant in a wet t-shirt contest - and Dean, he was trying _very_ hard not to think about that either.

"That ought to do it," Dean said, tossing the washcloth back onto the coffee table, relief apparent in his voice.

The moisture had softened up the dried blood, allowing him to easily peel the gauze away. When the wound was revealed, he actually forgot about being horny for a split second. He'd never seen anything like it. If he hadn't known for a fact that earlier in the day an arrow had completely pierced her shoulder – he would have never believed it. There was still a wound, but it was nowhere near as large as it had been and the bleeding had completely stopped. He couldn't spot any signs of infection. In fact, the edges of the wound were a healthy pink where the skin had already begun to stitch itself back together.

"That's amazing," he said.

"Yeah," Buffy agreed, "that's me. The amazing super-healing Buffy - that's what they call me you know..." she trailed off. At least she'd managed to cut herself off before she went on a truly epic, nervous ramble.

As far as first aid was concerned, Dean decided that simply covering the wound with a fresh bandage would be sufficient. Once he'd finished re-wrapping her shoulder, he used a couple of pieces of surgical tape to secure the gauze. "All done," he announced, seemingly unsure what to do with his hands now that his task was finished.

"Thanks," Buffy replied, suddenly extremely interested in inspecting the state of her manicure. She was afraid to go for any multi-syllable words, much less attempt an actual sentence, because her brain had completely deserted her – _the damn traitor_.

Buffy wasn't quite sure which one of them actually made the first move. One second they were sitting side-by-side, enjoying an excruciatingly awkward silence, and the next Dean was leaning over her and they were kissing… and it was wonderful. She really wanted him to hold her closer, but he seemed to be carefully holding himself back. It was obvious he was trying to be gentle and not press against her shoulder. _Very sweet, but way too frustrating_. The Slayer was going to have to take charge of this situation.

Buffy grabbed Dean by the shoulders and turned him quickly so that he was the one sitting with his back against the cushions. She then straddled his lap, facing him, with her knees on either side of his hips.

His eyes went wide with surprise, but he gave her a huge smile. "Please, punish me," he begged while trying hard not to bust out laughing. "I've been bad … _very_ bad."

"Shut it," Buffy replied self-consciously. She had pushed him harder than she meant to.

"Yes, Mistress Buffy," he managed to say before she shut him up with another kiss.

Cautious-Buffy was officially dead, or at least unconscious. The Slayer let her lips wander to Dean's earlobe, sucking it into her mouth and giving it a light nibble. She smiled when he let out a low groan and slid one of his calloused hands underneath her top to caress her back. Buffy gave a little groan of her own when he reached his other hand beneath her skirt and ran the tips of his fingers just barely beneath the elastic on her panties. She moved her hips against him and pressed closer, kissing him much more fiercely.

He was killing her with all the teasing. She had to get rid of some of his clothes. The man was way too overdressed for the occasion.

"This isn't right," Buffy said breathlessly as she broke away from the kiss.

The expression on Dean's face was priceless. He looked like a kid who had just been told Christmas was cancelled, _permanently_. She felt horrible, but couldn't help but giggle a little. He was too cute.

"Are you sure?" Dean asked with a distinct note of desperation in his voice, "cause it feels super freakin' right to me."

"I just meant you were wearing too many clothes," Buffy said teasingly as she slid her hands beneath his t-shirt and lightly raked her nails against his toned abs.

"Thank God!" Dean exclaimed with a deep sigh of relief. He then practically ripped his t-shirt apart in his rush to get rid of it. "Trust me, baby, that can be fixed," he promised. "But fair is fair," he added with a grin, before sliding one of the straps of Buffy's camisole off of her shoulder.

Buffy was more than okay with that turn of events, since it gave Dean more places to put his lips, which was definitely a good thing. The man was highly talented. He'd managed to completely force that annoying cautious-Buffy into simple task. In fact, it was safe to say they'd reached the point-of-no-return. Buffy had just made the decision to start working on the zipper to Dean's blue jeans when she felt an oddly familiar sensation.

The air felt like it had been supercharged with static electricity and there was a faint crackling noise in the room. The Slayer had experienced all of this before, but was praying that this time she was imagining things. Her hopes were crushed, however, when Dean suddenly stopped kissing her and every muscle in his body went rigid. She quickly grabbed his wrist to prevent him from reaching for his pistol, which was sitting on the end table beside them. Keeping a firm grip on the his wrist, Buffy turned her head to confirm her worst suspicions.

_Yep – there was no denying it._ Her quite possibly soon to be '_ex'_ best friend was standing in the middle of the room looking extremely uncomfortable. Her face had actually managed to turn the exact same shade of red as her hair.

"Hi, Buffy," Willow said hesitantly with an awkward wave of her fingers.


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: This is the final chapter of this particular story, but by no means is it the final chapter of this story (if that makes sense). I don't want to give anything away, so please read the notes at the end of the chapter.

I do want to thank everyone who read and reviewed. If I haven't personally responded to your reviews, it is definitely an oversight and a huge bad on my part. I have appreciated each and every one more than you can imagine. I also, as always, want to thank my beta reader isugirl and of course Joss Whedon and Eric Kripke for creating such wonderful universes and characters.

XXXXXXXXXX

To be on the safe-side, Buffy tightened her grip on Dean's pistol hand. If he was feeling even half as annoyed as she was right now, Willow was in real danger. She used her free arm to cover her chest and started to open her mouth to ask Willow just what the hell she was doing here when she was cut off by Dean's booming voice.

"What the hell?" he exclaimed. "You know this chick?"

"Unfortunately," Buffy answered with a groan. Uttering a deep sigh, she made the introductions. "Dean, this is Willow. Willow say _hi_ to Dean. Willow's my best friend," she explained, "although I may have to re-evaluate the 'best_' _part."

"Hi," Willow said, addressing Dean hesitantly. "I guess this might seem a little strange… Sort of like I _magically_ appeared… _Of course that's just crazy_," she added with a forced and almost hysterical laugh. "Nope, no crazy here. I-I knew that Buffy was staying here, so I talked the desk clerk into letting me in. Just wanted to sneak in and surprise her… _So, surprise!_"

"Give it up, Will," Buffy replied in a flat tone, "he has an extremely annoying magically-appearing-friend of his own."

"Is she-" Dean started to ask.

"An angel?" Buffy finished for him. "No, just a very powerful witch, but I have a strong feeling she's going to need an angel in the _very_ immediate future. A guardian angel," she emphasized. "Possibly three or four."

Buffy had been looking at Willow while she was speaking and missed the expression of disgust that crossed Dean's features when she mentioned the word 'witch'. Willow, however, most definitely witnessed the man's obvious feelings of distaste toward her and strongly wished she could disappear again. It was _so_ tempting to do a memory charm to erase the last two minutes from the pair's mind and then apparate the hell on out of there. But, number one - she had promised Buffy she would never perform another memory spell on her and number two - she really needed to talk to her. Dammit!

"I'm sorry," Willow offered, her face as red as ever. "_Really, really sorry."_

"Willow, why are you here?" Buffy demanded in a quiet but firm tone (the scary, Slayer-Buffy tone). "For your sake, I hope the entire city of Cleveland is on fire_._"

"I… uh… well," Willow stammered as she wrung her hands anxiously. "Buffy, I'm sooo sorry… this is really awkward."

"Ya think?" Dean bit out sarcastically.

Willow flinched a little at the acid in the man's tone. If it was possible, the guy looked even less thrilled with the situation than Buffy. He met her eyes with a sharp, assessing gaze that made her memory wipe/apparation plan suddenly more appealing.

The Slayer sighed deeply and turned to face Dean, who looked dangerously unhappy with his jaw tightly clenched and both eyes still narrowed steadily on her friend. Damn, he looked sexy when he was angry. _Ugh_, she groaned to herself, _why Willow? Why now?_

"Dean," Buffy said, attempting to break his concentration. "I'm going to let go of your wrist now," she explained slowly, "but you can't shoot Willow. She's my friend, so I get the privilege of killing her."

After releasing Dean's wrist, Buffy pondered her best option for getting off of his lap with some dignity intact. It was a bit of a challenge, since she was determined to keep her chest covered. I mean, sure, Dean had just seen her topless and after years of friendship, which included many marathon sessions of 'which outfit makes me look thinner', Willow had seen pretty much everything Buffy had. But this was different and she felt very exposed. It was a lot like the real life version of the classic 'naked in public' nightmare.

"Both of you close your eyes," Buffy ordered. "I'd like to get back on my feet without the entire world knowing what color of panties I'm wearing and _no peeking_," she added, especially for Dean's benefit.

Once the two had followed her orders and shut their eyes, she climbed down from Dean's lap and pulled her camisole back on. She found she had no problems doing so whatsoever. It was funny how being so thoroughly mortified had removed all of the soreness from her shoulder.

"Okay," she announced, "you can open your eyes now."

Willow apparently hadn't heard the Slayers announcement, because she still had her eyes tightly shut and both hands clamped over them for good measure. She seemed very determined not to let in even the tiniest sliver of light.

"Will," Buffy said, "it's okay, the coast is clear."

"Just making sure," Willow replied as she cautiously uncovered her eyes.

"It's a little late for that," Buffy replied with obvious irritation. "Seriously, would it kill you to pick up a phone?"

"I tried! But you didn't answer, and I thought '_hey, not worried – _Buffy just lost her phone again'. But then Dawn didn't pick-up either… and Giles was polishing his glasses a lot, _like really a lot_. I think they're technically just frames now, he rubbed all the glass away. He kept saying, '_ring her again_, _ring her again' _and then…" Willow suddenly cut off her ramble after following her friend's pointing finger to the telephone that was sitting on the table beside the sofa.

"Oh no," she groaned, clearly horrified. "I completely forgot that people still use landlines. _Honest_! I haven't had one in years. Not since I left home."

"Uh huh," Buffy said, crossing her arms in front of her. "And something tells me you didn't exactly rack your brain for options before you decided to pull the ultimate pop-in."

"I did too," Willow said a bit defensively. "I've been really good. I don't do major magic unless it's absolutely necessary. And missing chief Slayer - _kind of an emergency_. I mean, I didn't expect… I just thought… I thought you'd be sitting here with Dawn, watching a movie. I'd pop-in, maybe make you spill your popcorn. You'd be all 'that wacky Willow with her crazy antics' and then it would be hilarity all around."

Buffy was not convinced by her friend's defense. Yes, Willow had been much better about not using magic unnecessarily, but she also knew that there were certain magical things that Willow just loved doing, meaning she'd jump at any opportunity to justify their use. Unfortunately, appearing out of thin air was one of those things.

Willow looked nervously back and forth between her very irritated best friend and the stone-faced man sitting on the couch. "Did I mention how sorry I was?" she asked in a sad, pleading tone, giving them her best sad, puppy-dog face. Somehow they both seemed immune at the moment.

Buffy just shook her head. "I'm going to go put an actual shirt on," she said as she headed toward the bedroom. "When I get back," she glared at Willow, "you're going to give me a damn good explanation for this."

With a stab of panic, Willow realized that she had just been left alone with Dean. Talk about awkward. She tried giving him a friendly smile.

"_It's nice to meet you,"_ she said uncertainly. He just cocked an eyebrow at her and gave her a murderous glare. That's when she noticed the pistol sitting on the table beside him and knew immediately that it wasn't Buffy's. "I'll be uh…I'll be right back," Willow announced nervously, turning quickly and following the Slayer into the bedroom.

XXXXXXXXXX

"I don't think he likes me," Willow confided quietly to Buffy, who was searching through the dresser drawers for a shirt.

"_I _don't like you very much right now," Buffy said dryly.

"Oh Buffy, I'm so-"

"Sorry?" Buffy finished for her. "Yeah, I got that, but you'll have to give me a minute to stew in my violent, self-righteous anger. Do you have any idea how long it's been since…? _Never mind_," she said with a wave of her hand. She'd spotted a light purple, button-down blouse that looked like it would pair well with her skirt and began pulling it on. "Your timing sucks, by the way," she added with a pout as she buttoned up the blouse.

"_I know._ I'm a wretched, horrible friend," Willow said in a dejected tone. "I-I deserve to be stripped naked, covered in boils, and mocked in the town square."

"As long as you're aware," Buffy replied with a half-grin.

"He is cute," Willow said, inclining her head toward the other room and giving her friend a hopeful smile. "You have to fill me in. Who is he? How did you meet? How did he get a black eye? I need the full scoop… _and ooh_, did you say something about angels?"

"Later," Buffy said. "You still have some explaining to do."

"Yeah, _I know_, but did you see that scar?" Willow whispered. "The one on his shoulder that looks like a handprint? I wonder where that came from?"

"I don't know. It's definitely… _different_. That's for sure._"_

"Well," Willow stated in an earnest whisper, "to leave a mark like that you have to be working some heavy-duty mystical mojo. I know that much."

Buffy shrugged and started to leave the bedroom. "We all have our secrets."

Willow tugged on Buffy's sleeve to stop her from walking away. "Is he human?" she asked quietly.

"Yes," she replied defensively. "Why? Is that shocking?"

"No… I mean…well, yeah, a little."

Buffy frowned at her friend and took another step toward the doorway.

"Buffy," she said hesitantly, tugging on her shirt sleeve again. "Why does he have a gun?"

"Willow!"

"I know, I know – _later_."

XXXXXXXXXX

Willow chose to sit on the loveseat, leaving the couch to Buffy and Dean. It was best, she decided, to give the man a wide berth since his mood did not appear to have improved. Okay, he did have a reason to be grumpy, but he should still give her a chance. Willow just hated it when people didn't like her.

Much to her relief, Buffy sat down on Dean's right, which put her between him and the table where the gun lay. She watched as her friend rubbed the man's leg and whispered something in his ear. Whatever Buffy said, it seemed to ease his tension a little, because he actually smiled and stretched his arm out on the couch behind her.

"I know I'm supposed to stop asking questions," Willow began hesitantly, "but where's Dawn?"

"She's with Sam," Buffy replied. "He's Dean's brother. Speaking of Dawn," Buffy said as she turned toward Dean. "Maybe we better check in on her. It's hard to tell what she's gotten your brother into."

"I'll call him," Dean said, reaching to pick up his phone. With a pointed look at Willow, he added, "we might as well tell 'em to come on over."

_Great,_ Willow thought, _another one._ Considering the run of luck she'd had today, this one would probably end up being even scarier than Dean. She wouldn't be surprised if he came in waving an Uzi around.

"What's goin' on?" Dean said into his cell. He paused for a moment, listening. "Yeah, well it's gotten pretty damn weird over here too," he grumbled. "Just come on over. You can tell me about it when you get here," Dean said as he disconnected the call.

"What did Dawn do?" Buffy asked with a groan.

"Nothing, they're on their way over," he replied frowning. Something was definitely up with Sam though, he didn't sound right. "

"Okay," Buffy replied uncertainly. Something was up, she just didn't know what. Anyway," she said, turning her attention back to Willow. "Time to dish. What's the what?"

Willow gave Dean a quick glance and replied uncertainly, "Well, a couple of things actually."

"It's okay, Will," Buffy assured her. "He's in the secret club. You can speak freely."

"Oh," she replied and then paused for a moment, her wheels obviously spinning. "OH!" Willow exclaimed. "That explains a lot. Dean's one of the mysterious masked men."

Buffy and Dean exchanged confused glances. "I'm what now?" Dean asked.

"One of the masked men," Willow said excitedly. "Those kids, the ones that were kidnapped in the Canyon. They claim they were rescued from a bunch of monsters by four masked superheroes. It's all over the news. We knew the two women had to be Buffy and Dawn, but the two guys had all of us stumped."

"Masked, huh?" Dean said. "I'm impressed. Those kids really took that superhero bullshit I was flinging to heart."

"You guys weren't really wearing masks were you?" Willow asked.

Buffy didn't reply, but instead threw her a _'what the hell do you think?'_ look.

"Right," Willow said, answering Buffy's non-verbal reply, "stupid question." Then her eyes fell on her friend's bandaged shoulder and she winced. She couldn't believe she'd missed that. Of course Slayers and bandages were a common sight and there had been a lot to take in (to put it mildly). But it just made things seem worse since she'd already stomped all over Buffy's privacy. Apparently she wasn't just an inconsiderate friend, she was also cold, callous, and unconcerned to boot. Maybe it would help if she tried to show Buffy that she did actually care about her wellbeing. She couldn't quite bake cookies at the moment, but she could at least ask her about her injury.

"Is your shoulder okay, Buffy?" Willow asked sheepishly. "I guess you got it hurt saving those kids, huh? Sorry I didn't mention it before. I just… well…"

"I'm fine," Buffy replied, waving off her injury. "I'm just curious how you knew I was involved."

"It's a funny thing," Willow replied. "Maybe not _funny _per se, but certainly interesting. Well, Xander sure thought it was funny," she added with a slight shrug. "Of course, he can be easily amused. Just be glad you haven't been around for Weinergate," she confided with an eye-roll. "Xander is completely obsessed. I'm seriously considering jinxing him. He's driven me to it," Willow stated earnestly, "and I'm pretty sure that even Giles will be completely on board - _it's that bad_."

Buffy cleared her throat impatiently.

"Your scythe is on national television," Willow spat out.

"No it's not," Buffy denied with a gasp. "It's locked in the trunk of my car. I swear. At least I think so… It better be!" she added with a note of panic in her voice.

"Breathe Buffy," her friend said soothingly. "I didn't mean the _actual_ scythe. It's just a picture, a drawing, actually."

"Seriously?" Buffy asked.

"No doubt about it," Willow nodded as she reached for the television remote. "I'll show you."

Willow quickly consulted the complimentary list of channels the hotel had left on the coffee table and flipped the television on to the first 24-hour news channel on the list.

"There," she said pointing at the TV. "See. That's definitely the scythe."

"Holy crap," Dean breathed as he stared at the image on the screen, which was overlaying an amused commentary from the newscaster regarding the children's wild imaginations. "That's a hell of a lot of detail for a crayon drawing," he added. "That kid has some talent."

That kid, Buffy noticed, without surprise, was Rachel Henderson, she had signed the drawing in red crayon. Only a Slayer – or a potential one – would've remembered that much detail about the weapon. It seemed the little girl was officially obsessed.

Buffy crinkled her brow with worry. "Giles wants to kill me, doesn't he?" she asked Willow with a defeated whimper. "I'm never, ever getting another day off."

"No, no he's not angry. I promise. He was just… _well_… a little shocked is all. The scythe is pretty distinctive. Not something you see on TV every day."

"Yeah, I can see him polishing his glasses now," she groaned. She wasn't completely convinced that Giles wasn't more upset about the situation than Willow was letting on. After all, he had suggested she leave the scythe behind when she left for vacation. Will was more than likely sugar-coating things because she was afraid Buffy was still mad at her (and she was_, a little)._

"So what was the deal?" Willow pressed curiously. "What kind of monsters?"

"Mutant bug-people."

"Yuck," Willow cringed, "glad I missed it, but I bet Xander will be disappointed. Remember the Praying Mantis Lady?" She paused for a moment, as if considering the situation, and then grinned mischievously. "Truthfully," she added, "I'm actually sorry he wasn't with you today. It would serve him right for all the corny wiener jokes."

"Very true," the Slayer agreed in a faraway tone, as if her mind was on something else. "Those things had an official name," she continued, biting her lower lip in thought, "but I can't seem to remember what it was. Do you remember?_"_ she asked Dean.

"I don't know," he shrugged. "Fancy Cas-speak for 'ugly-ass ant people'.

"Wait, I remember now," Buffy said. "It sounded like the _Nathan Fillions_… or something like that," she frowned.

"Do you mean the Nephilim?" Willow asked, sounding excited. "The actual Ant People of Orion? Are you serious?" she continued, not pausing for an answer. "I studied them in my class!"

"Will's working on a Master's degree in Native American Folklore," Buffy explained to Dean. "In her free time."

"This is huge!" Willow gushed. "The ant people are like the rock stars of Hopi folklore. You guys are telling me they're real?"

"They _were_ real," Dean replied, "until we ganked their asses."

"Oh," Willow said, sounding clearly disappointed. "I don't understand. They were supposed to be all nice and helpful and stuff. The legends say they taught the Hopi how to plant crops."

"Sorry, Will," Buffy replied. "They had to go. What can I say? Those guys definitely weren't looking to be our neighbors in Farmville. Maybe hiding out in a cave for a few centuries made them cranky?"

"Well what was their cave like?" Willow asked, brushing off her disappointment. "I bet it was fascinating," she continued, answering her own question, her speech getting more and more rapid with her excitement. "Supposedly they had these hieroglyphs and all kinds of intricate tunnels and stuff. I just can't believe it," she added wistfully her eyes taking on a faraway look. "This is the most exciting thing I've heard in ages."

Dean snorted. "Yeah, it was thrilling. They were a real fun bunch."

"You know what?" Willow continued, ignoring Dean's snide remark. "I bet if you guys took me to that cave I could find some really excellent research material. I could write my dissertation on it, become a full PhD!"

Dean just stared at the redhead in awe. This chick was the definition of freaky.

"Research excites her," Buffy explained, noting the expression on Dean's face. "It's like a drug."

"Sorry," Willow said, her face turning a little pink. "I'm babbling again, aren't I? I think I've had too much coffee today. I didn't get much sleep last night," she added.

"Which leads us to?" Buffy prompted, leaning forward in her seat, as if she expected Willow to come up with a brilliant revelation.

"I should consider switching to decaf?" Willow replied, obviously unsure of what her friend was getting at.

"No, Will, I was trying to ask why you didn't sleep well last night. I assume that's your real reason for showing up unannounced. Because I have to tell ya, if the Crayola scythe picture is all you got, we have a problem."

"Oh yeah, _that_. There's definitely more," Willow said hesitantly.

"Let me guess. Giles sent you here to confiscate the scythe didn't he? I can't believe this!" Buffy snapped. "Am I twelve now? I've actually lost my scythe privileges? Because that's the most…"

"That's not it," Willow interrupted, cringing at Buffy's tone. _Boy she had a hair trigger temper today_. "Buffy, listen, it's not like that at all. Just give me a chance to explain. Okay?"

"Okay, fine. Whatever," Buffy said, sounding a lot like a sulky teenager. "I'm listening."

Before Willow had a chance to explain herself, the room was filled with the sounds of the opening riff to The Edgar Winter Group's _Frankenstein_.

"That's Sam," Dean said, reaching for his cell and hitting the answer button. "Yeah," he said a little irritably as he held the phone to his ear.

Dawn's voice replied on the other end of the line. "Are you decent?" she asked.

"Dawn? What the hell? Where's Sam?" he asked anxiously, remembering how strange he'd sounded earlier.

"I chopped him up and fed him to the fishes," Dawn replied sarcastically. "Where do you think? He's sitting right here beside me. We just pulled into the parking lot."

"Well, let me talk to him."

Dawn giggled a little. "Trust me. You'll hear plenty from him in just a couple of minutes. So, zip it up, we're headed your way," she said, cutting off the call.

XXXXXXXXXX

Dawn's mouth fell open the moment she opened the door. "Willow? Oh my God! What are you doing here? No, wait, you don't have to tell me," she added with clear annoyance. "The world's ending again, isn't it?"

"I hope not," Willow said as she hugged Dawn hello. _She was sooo happy to see a friendly face._ Then she looked up at the man standing beside Dawn and immediately felt her little happiness bubble deflating. This one _was_ scarier, way scarier. Not only was he bigger than his brother, but he also looked like he'd gone three rounds with Godzilla. Simply put, the man was ominous looking. This probably had a lot to do with the fact that she couldn't make out his features due to his nose being so swollen. Plus, he had two black eyes which currently appeared to be tiny slits.

"Sam," Dawn said, "this is Willow. She's one of our best friends. Willow," she said, pointing between the two, "this is Sam. He's Dean's brother."

"Hi, Willow," Sam said in a nasally voice, offering his hand and smiling broadly, which looked really strange on his busted-up face. "I'm Sam. Dean's my brother."

"That's the rumor," Willow said, returning his smile uncertainly and shaking his hand. She wasn't quite sure what to think about Sam. He was definitely friendlier than Dean, but he was also a little unsteady on his feet and kinda goofy_._

Willow may have been unsure, but it took Dean maybe two seconds to diagnose what was up with his brother. "You're wasted," he stated.

"Very," Sam confirmed with another broad grin.

"What the hell have you two been doing?" Dean growled. He knew Buffy would be seriously pissed if his brother had taken Dawn out for more drinking. He also knew that Buffy would probably find a way to blame it all on him. After all, he was the designated pot-stirrer.

"I got him to take some of your Vicodin," Dawn confessed hesitantly. "You know, for his shoulder. I guess I should have paid attention to that little sticker that says not to mix it with alcohol. But he hasn't had anything to drink since we left the restaurant. I swear," she added vehemently.

"He's a lightweight," Dean said, shaking his head. "What the hell, Sam? Every time you get banged up I try to get you to take the good stuff and you never do. Why now?"

"She's cuter than you are, Dean," his brother answered, "and scarier too," he added with a nod, pronouncing every word very deliberately, as if he had to stop and think about each syllable.

"Right," Dean said, rolling his eyes. "Just sit your giant ass down before you fall on somebody."

Sam sat down on the couch beside his brother and waved enthusiastically to Buffy, who was sitting a whole two feet away from him on the other side of Dean.

"Hi, Sam," Buffy said, returning his wave and smiling. She may as well just go with the flow, because it looked like her night of passion was now _officially_ cancelled. Oh well, at least wasted-Sam was more entertaining than magically-appearing Willow. Poor Sam, she thought, it was probably a good thing he was high, because he had to be in pain. His face looked horrible and… _Oh my God, the doorman._

"Dawn," Buffy said sadly. "Please tell me that doorman guy isn't still downstairs."

"Oh he's down there alright," Dawn replied with a mischievous smile. "Sam invited him to join our secret underground fight club. Apparently we meet every Friday night at nine in the basement of the Waffle House on East 2nd Street."

"And every other Tuesday," Sam added.

"The Waffle House has a basement?" Willow asked, sounding very perplexed.

"Way to go, Sam," Dawn said cheerfully as she pointed at Willow. "Looks like you've got another recruit."

Sam gave Dawn a thumbs-up and another goofy grin before turning to Dean with a loud "_Dude"_ and breaking into a ramble.

Dawn pulled Willow down onto the loveseat and glanced over at the three on the couch. Buffy and Dean seemed engrossed in what Sam was saying. He was currently going on and on about zombies in a very animated fashion, waving his arms around and swaying drunkenly in his seat. Dawn figured that meant she could safely interrogate Will without anyone listening in.

"So," Dawn began, "How did you get here?"

"I apparated," Willow said sounding momentarily pleased before catching herself and giving a somewhat shamed glance in Buffy's direction.

Dawn noted her friend's show of guilt and added that to the pinched and miserable expression on Dean's face. "Looks like you made quite an entrance," she said knowingly.

"Oh, Dawnie," Willow whined, "You have no idea."

"I think I do," Dawn said, taking another glance at Dean. "So, how bad was it?"

"It could have been worse. I mean, well, it was… they were only in the partially-nude state," she stammered before covering her face with her hands.

"That sucks," Dawn stated. "Poor Dean… _hell, poor Buffy._ You know she hasn't been laid in forever, right?"

"I know," Willow said mournfully. "I'm a terrible person. I should've thought before jumping on the hardcore magic bandwagon. I feel so guilty… I'm like You-Know-Who."

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Dean might disagree, but I don't think this exactly rises to Voldemort's standards."

"Shush," Willow said anxiously, putting a finger against Dawn's lips. "You know it makes me nervous when you say that."

"Voldemort," Dawn repeated with a sly grin. Willow did deserve a little torture_._ Besides, it was fun.

"Dawn!" Willow exclaimed. "Please don't do that."

"Come on, you know they're just books. I'm the one who turned you on to them in the first place, which was a huge mistake by the way."

"How can you say that?" Willow asked earnestly. "After everything we've seen, don't you think it's possible that J.K. Rowling knows something we don't? There are plenty of other dimensions out there."

"I know, I know," Dawn said sarcastically. "Entire worlds composed entirely of shrimp. Evil, dark wizard shrimp, no less. I bet they're _all_ named Voldemort. It would be so confusing."

"Buffy!" Willow exclaimed. "Dawn's doing it again."

"Huh?" Buffy said, looking up and taking in both Dawn's smirk and Willow's panicked expression. "Please tell me we're not talking about Volkymore again?" she asked in exasperation.

"It's Voldemort," Willow corrected automatically. Her eyes widening, she immediately realized what she'd done and slapped her hands over in mouth in shock. Dawn pointed gloatingly and began laughing so hard that she almost fell off the loveseat.

"It's not funny," Willow sulked, giving Dawn a dirty look. "A name is a very powerful thing. You can do real damage if you know something's true name. Tell her Buffy."

Buffy nodded in mock seriousness. "That's right, Dawn, just ask Rumplestiltskin."

This made Dawn laugh even harder, causing Willow to deepen her pout. "Fine," she stated, her brows drawn together. "But you'll both be really sorry when the Dark Lord rises."

"Yes," Buffy agreed, "our shame will be great. But right now, it looks like the country has a sudden outbreak of vamps, wraiths, zombie hordes, and other assorted baddies. So, sadly, the _Dark Lord_ will have to take a number."

"No kidding?" Willow asked. "And when you say the country, do you mean all this stuff is happening outside of the Hellmouth?"

"Yep," Buffy answered. "According to a friend of Sam and Dean it is. And, unfortunately, he sounds like a reliable source," she frowned.

"Yikes," Willow said. "So, maybe the situation in Cleveland is a little more serious than I thought."

"Yeah Will," Buffy agreed. "I think it's time you spilled the beans on that."

Willow found that every eye was suddenly on her, waiting for her to fill them in. "Well," she began, "the last week or so, things have been getting a little crazy, but nothing we couldn't handle," she added quickly when she noticed the Slayer's concerned expression. "We didn't want you to worry. It's just that the fangs are a little more _grrr_ than usual. They've been showing up in larger groups. We should have had it all covered, but, the thing is, some of the girls are being really… Well, I guess the nice word is 'bratty' and things are starting to get out of hand."

"Let me guess," Buffy said. "Queen Bee Carrie and her loyal hive."

"Who else?" Willow confirmed with a heavy sigh. "I'm afraid Faith is about to commit murder, _again_."

"Sorry, Will," Buffy replied. "I'm just not seeing the bad in that."

Willow nodded in agreement. "Since I'm here on official Council business," she said, "I'm required to say that the Council generally frowns upon the murder of underage Slayers… but," she added, "if you'll wait until my shift is over, I'll totally help you bury the bodies."

"Me too," Dawn added. "Those two-faced bitches are another reason I can't wait to get out of Cleveland."

"Dammit!" Buffy exclaimed mournfully. "I guess this means my vacation is cancelled."

"How about _postponed_," Willow offered sympathetically. "It's just… if things hadn't gotten so crazy, I'd say let Faith and those girls fight it out. But things _are_ crazy and now it sounds like the whole country's following suit. I'm really sorry, Buffy."

"I know," Buffy replied irritably. "Faith doesn't have my years of Cordelia training to fall back on."

"There's no substitute for experience," Willow admitted.

"Son of a Bitch," Dean ground out in frustration. "It's her… _has to be_!"

"Yep," Sam agreed.

"Her?" Buffy asked. "You'll have to elaborate on that, because I'm lost."

"A few weeks back," Dean began, "Sam and me worked this really wacked-out job. Anyway, we found this freaky book. It was written in some old-ass language-"

"And the pages were made of human skin," Sam interjected, sounding like he was talking with marbles in his mouth."

"Bobby translated it," Dean continued, shaking his head at his smashed little brother. "It was all about this ritual to raise something called 'The Mother of All'_, _but some of the pages were missing. Supposedly she's like the queen bitch of Purgatory. It's the place where all the monsters go when they get ganked."

"Purgatory?" Buffy said curiously. "I thought that was for souls in limbo between heaven and hell, like unbaptized babies and stuff. _What?"_ she asked defensively in response to Dawn's astonished expression. "I do know a few things about church and religion and all that. I'm not a complete heathen."

"That's the Catholic version of Purgatory you're thinking of, Buffy," Willow said absently. She was now wearing an expression of deep concern, her skin even paler than usual. "This one is a lot older," she continued. "It sometimes goes by other names, but it's like Dean said, the afterlife for monsters. If somebody opened a door to that place…." She trailed off, shaking her head.

"We're all screwed," Dawn finished for her.

"That would be my guess," Willow agreed with a nod.

"Dude!" Sam said suddenly, breaking everyone out of their intense thoughts regarding the upcoming apocalypse. Leaning in close to his brother, he said, "I almost forgot what else Bobby told me."

"What? That I'm buying groceries for the next two months?" Dean said sarcastically.

"How did you know?" Sam asked, sounding amazed.

"Because he's a grouchy old bastard _and_ he's predictable. Seriously, Sam, is that really what you wanted to tell me? Cause, in case you didn't notice, we have more important stuff going on right now."

"You two shouldn't fight," Sam said sadly.

"Who's fighting?" Dean scoffed. "We're talking about two stupid slices of bologna. Man, you know Bobby's always on my case about somethin'. I think we'll work through it."

"But Dean," Sam slurred, "Bobby's the only actual living person on this _entire_ planet who cares if we live or die."

"I care Sam," Dawn said, sounding both amused and puzzled by the younger Winchester's sudden change of mood. "And Buffy cares too," she added. "Don't you, Buffy?"

"I do," Buffy assured him, giving Dean's leg a squeeze. "I'm full of caring."

"That's nice," Sam said hopefully, "because nobody likes us anymore. Well, actually, it's mostly me they don't like," he confided in what he probably believed was a hushed tone. "Everybody would be cool with Dean if I wasn't around. I'vecaused way too much trouble," he whispered loudly, swaying heavily against his brother.

The Summers sisters exchanged confused looks with one another.

"Sammy," Dean said tiredly as he pushed his brother back into a sitting position. "Please don't turn into a crying drunk. I'll have to kick your ass."

"No, you won't," Sam stated as he gripped his brother by the shoulder. "_You won't. _I don't think you can, actually," he added with a lopsided grin.

"You wanna try me?"

"No, dude, I don't. You know why? Cuz I love you man," Sam said as he wrapped his arms around Dean.

"Jesus Christ," Dean grumbled as he struggled to push his brother away. It was like trying to do battle with a giant wet noodle. "Get your freaky octopus arms off of me Sam! I mean it."

Sam let his brother go and leaned back against the couch cushions. "You're a dick sometimes, Dean," he said, "I love you, but you can be a major dick." Sam dissolved into a fit of laughter at his own revelation and then suddenly his mood shifted back to serious.

"Don't get me wrong," he slurred, leaning over his brother to talk to Buffy. "Dean's a great guy, but you have no idea what he's been through… _what we've been through_. There's a lot you don't know. A couple years back he went to…"

"Shut up, Sam!" Dean warned sharply as he rose from the couch. He had an overwhelming (and very unfair) impulse to break his little brother's nose again, so he realized it was best to put a little space between them. "Would you please just pass out!" he thundered in frustration.

It was obvious to Buffy that Dean's stress level had just risen substantially. New lines of worry had appeared on his face and he rubbed the heel of his hand against his forehead as if trying to ward off a headache. She watched in concern as he pulled out his phone and turned to face her.

"I need to call Bobby," he said tightly. "Maybe I can get a clearer picture of what's going on from him. Hopefully, he's a little more sober than Sam." He then inclined his head toward the bedroom. "Do you mind if I…?"

"No," Buffy assured him softly, "I don't mind. Help yourself." She watched after him with a worried expression as he went into the bedroom and closed the door behind him.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Time to roll," Dean announced tiredly as he emerged from the bedroom several minutes later. "We're headed to Pittsburgh."

"Pittsburgh?" Buffy asked, sounding startled. "Tonight?"

"Yeah. According to Bobby there's a full-on Romero flick goin' on up there. He and Rufus – another hunter we know – are already on their way. I can't let those two crotchety old farts go in there alone. They'll get their asses killed."

"You better not say that to Bobby," Sam warned. "He'll be pissed."

"Thanks for the tip," Dean replied dismissively. "You think you can manage to walk out of here?" he asked his brother gruffly. "We need to get movin'."

"Okay," Sam said a little uncertainly as he rose from his seat and gave everyone an awkward wave. _Aren't we being rude?_ he asked himself. He was very confused by the sudden turn of events, but his head was way too clouded to respond properly. He had a distant feeling that he'd said something to upset Dean. He just couldn't put his finger on it. It was like the world around him wasn't quite real.

Buffy didn't know what to say. She'd hoped to get a chance to at least talk to Dean before she had to leave, but now he seemed like he couldn't get away from her fast enough. He looked really closed-off and she was pretty sure she knew why. Talk about your disastrous Buffy-dates. This one just might take first prize.

First, her best friend pulls a David Copperfield act (at the worst possible moment) and then her sister decides to drug his brother. She'd be shocked if Dean ever wanted to see her again. Why, why, why couldn't the Powers let her have at least one night with him before he was rudely introduced to the chaos that was her life? You can't just drop this kind of craziness on men. They have to be eased into it.

"You ladies take care," Dean said with a flick of his hand and a nod toward Buffy. He then picked up his pistol and made sure that the safety was on before stowing it away in his waistband.

_I'm such a dumbass!_ Dean thought to himself. He couldn't believe he'd thought for one second that he could have anything with a woman like Buffy. He couldn't even manage to spend one night with her before all hell started breaking loose. His big-mouthed drunken/drugged-out brother was certainly a new twist to the story, but at least Sam's painful ramble had reminded him of all the reasons why he needed to stay away from relationships. What made it really hard for him was the fact that he badly wanted to give this one a shot – which meant he needed to get the hell out of here quickly, before he really screwed-up and allowed the full weight of the Winchester curse to come crashing down on Buffy and her sister.

Dawn watched the entire scene in total confusion. What the hell was going on? She gave a concerned glance in her sister's direction and jumped to her feet. She wanted to, at least, say goodbye to Sam before his brother drug him out the door.

"I guess I'll see ya, Sam," she said uncertainly as she stepped in front of him. Sam smiled and surprised her by pulling her into a hug.

"Have fun at college," he said. "Remember what I said about eight-o-clock classes."

"Don't worry," Dawn replied, "I don't plan on taking anything that starts before ten."

"Good plan," Sam agreed as he stepped unsteadily away. "And watch out for those frat boys," he added.

"Buffy's already warned me," Dawn smiled, waving goodbye. "You two be careful in Pittsburgh."

"We will," Sam assured her. "No more ant farms, okay?"

"Never again," she agreed sadly as she watched him fumble with the door handle. Man, he was trashed, she thought guiltily. That, she decided, probably had a whole lot to do with Dean's foul mood.

"Dean," Dawn said hesitantly, drawing him aside before he could make his escape as well. "I'm sorry about - _you know_ - the thing with Sam. I really didn't think he'd get so messed up."

"It's okay," Dean replied, not sounding angry. "It's not your fault. Sam's a big boy. Truth is, I woulda done the same thing. He just happened to actually listen to you is all."

"So, he'll be okay?"

"Yeah," Dean assured her with a half-smile. "He'll be fine. He just needs to sleep it off."

"Dean!" Buffy exclaimed, suddenly coming to her senses. All of this was happening too fast. She rushed forward and stood uncertainly in front of him. She wasn't sure how to begin.

"Willow's going to get Giles on this 'Mother of All' thing tonight," she finally said. "If we find anything, we'll let you know."

"Sounds good," Dean agreed, raising his hand as if to touch Buffy, but then letting it drop back to his side. "You take care of yourself, Buffy," he said with obvious sadness in eyes, before turning toward the doorway again.

"Wait, I wanted to give you this," she said as she held out a business card.

Dean took the card from her hand and read it. It simply gave Buffy's name, office address, and phone number. "You have a business card?" he asked, actually cracking a smile.

"Yeah," Buffy said sheepishly. "It's lame, _I know_, but I have this office supply fetish. You should see my exciting collection of Post-it Notes. I have every color and size ever invented. Anyway, I just wanted you to know that you can call anytime." She paused, thinking of what else to say. Damn he must think she's desperate. "I mean," she added, "if you ever run into anything you need a hand with, we'll be glad to help. The Council is big with the knowledge and we've got plenty of muscle. So… just give us a call."

"I will," Dean assured her, although he doubted he'd ever talk to her again. She had enough on her plate without worrying about his problems too. He simply couldn't trust himself to be around her. He'd never be able to keep things professional.

"Be careful out there, Dean," Buffy said softly.

"You too," he replied, before disappearing quickly through the door.

Buffy just stood and stared at the closed door for a moment. She wanted to go after him, but she didn't want to make a bigger fool of herself than she already had.

"What just happened?" Willow asked her from the background.

Buffy turned around, a very dejected expression now on her face. "You just witnessed the Buffy Summers first date curse in action," she replied sadly.

XXXXXXXXXX

A/N: I know, it sucks to leave a story hanging, but there is a completed sequel that is very Buffy/Dean. It's called Take the Long Way Home.

Thanks for reading!


End file.
